March Break
by Faran1078
Summary: Boone, Shannon and Andrew go on their first family vacation.
1. Chapter 1

She stood behind him, her arms around his waist, her chin resting on his shoulder. They were gazing out at the snow covered mountains. "This is different," Shannon commented.

"Yeah, sure is," Boone acknowledged.

"You were great on the plane," she offered.

"It was different, you being there," he shrugged. "You weren't freaked out, it kept me centred." He pulled her arms around him, pressing them against his sides. He'd changed Andrew's plans a little and had arranged for a chalet rental from the hotel instead of the suite in the main building originally booked. They were standing now in the master bedroom, gazing out through the sliding glass door, to the scenic view beyond.

She sighed and continued to look out at the view, the light quickly dimming as the afternoon wound down into evening. "I love you."

"I know," She could see his smirk reflected in the glass.

"What do you want to now?" Shannon nuzzled against his neck, he smelled like roses and chocolate.

"Not that," Boone pulled away from her.

She pouted in mock frustration. "The sight of you still takes my breath away," he confessed.

"Let me give it back to you, then," she kissed him. His hands moved up to either side of her face, holding her mouth tighter against his.

"Guys? There's a… Aw, no…" Andrew came in the door, pausing in whatever he was going to say once he saw them. They moved apart slowly, their son was well used to their displays of passion for each other.

They looked into each others' eyes for a second before acknowledging him. "There's a what?" Shannon asked, turning to him.

He shook his head at their behaviour before responding, "There a gaming system on the TV."

"Cool," Boone commented, "Anything edge?" Wondering how current the library of games provided was.

"So, so, usual stuff, is all," from what Andrew could tell, it was mostly standard.

"We'll deal," Boone loved playing video games with the boy, but so rarely got the chance.

"Are we going to eat soon? I can only last so long on Sky Mix." Andrew was referring to the fact that all they'd been given on the plane was a small foil pouch of snack food.

"I'll go shopping tomorrow and pick stuff up so I can cook here, but tonight, god help me," Boone took a deep breath and shook his head, suddenly picturing the implied carnage of the two of them tearing into beef steaks, "we're eating out."

While they both looked excited, Boone just looked deflated.

First though, they unpacked. Andrew's original gift of a snow board to Boone had metamorphosized into snow boards for all three, as well as the appropriate clothing. There wasn't much of a call for snow suits in Southern California, so they'd had to start from scratch. Columbia outerwear didn't come cheap, but Boone wasn't one to settle for anything but the best. Buy it once, but buy it right was his motto, otherwise you'd buy cheap over and over and end up spending more in the long run. Damn, but the guy was practical, Shannon had reflected, admiring herself in the expensive three in one jacket she had tried on at the sports wear shop.

They headed down to the village for dinner. Smiling, laughing and conversing silently with one another as they walked the snowy sidewalks, they paused in front of a welcoming restaurant façade.

The three of them hunched in front of the menu posted outside the front door. Boone looped his arm around Shannon's shoulders as they read the printed words. She tipped her head to rest against his, her hand falling to curl around Andrew's shoulder. Reaching agreement over the acceptability of the fare offered; they entered.

It was a warm and cozy atmosphere, homey almost. They ordered drinks and appetizers; then took their time perusing the rest of the menu.

When the food came, it was delicious; nearing the end of the meal, Boone sent his compliments to the chef. To their amazement, the man actually came out of the kitchen a few minutes later to talk to them.

"You liked the sea bass?" he asked Boone.

"It was wonderful; the mix of ginger and Thai chiles was excellent." Boone answered. "Though the touch of brown sugar with the fish sauce, I wasn't expecting."

"You know your stuff." The man commented.

Boone shrugged, "I run a catering company."

"No, _I_ run a catering company, you cook." Shannon corrected.

'Ahhh, a fellow professional, I should have guessed." The guy nodded.

"No, hardly," Boone hung his head, typically downplaying his accomplishments, "I just cook stuff, I don't have any real training or anything."

"Not all of us my friend, went to the C.I.A., there are many self taught chefs at the top of the list." He dismissed Boone's attempt at humility. "I just added that dish to the menu tonight, and you're the first person to comment on it. I wanted to get your feedback in person, my name's Rob." He held out his hand.

"Boone Carlyle," he shook it.

"Now, _that's_ a food network chef name if ever I heard one." Rob smiled.

They started taking food, so Shannon and Andrew tuned them out and focused on their entrees. Boone had lifted his implied food restrictions for the first family vacation they'd ever been on, but even if he hadn't they could still have ordered whatever they wanted. Interestingly enough though, they'd predictably ordered according to type, Andrew's taste was understandably more sophisticated than most almost-ten-year-olds, and he'd selected correspondingly. As he looked down at this place of fettuccini and clams, thinking, ruefully of the burger or steak he could have had, he realized that this was infinitely better.

He shot Shannon a look, as she kind of winced at her seasoned grilled chicken. 'He's totally brainwashed us. We're so screwed.' She thought to him, in amusement.

As he opened his mind to send her a response he felt something at the edge of his consciousness. He started looking around the place, trying to determine where it was coming from.

Shannon watched him glancing around, not paying any attention, to her. 'What is it?' She asked.

'Not sure, I think there's another one of us here,' he replied, absently.

'Another crash survivor,' what would be the odds on that? There were under forty of them.

'No,' he frowned and looked at her, shaking his head. 'Another sensitive, at least I think so. Can't you feel it?'

As she relaxed in an attempt to locate what he was talking about, he reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, she suddenly also felt the presence he'd become aware of, and looked over her shoulder.

'I'm going to go look,' he was out of his chair before she could object. Shannon shot a silent warning after him not to do anything stupid, and turned her attention back to dinner.

Andrew crossed the restaurant trying to figure out where the feeling was coming from. He stopped beside a table with three occupants; a blonde girl, about his own age and her parents, at least he assumed they were her parents. He looked at the girl in appraisal, and sent her his name.

She turned to him, her eyes wide; he reached out and picked up her fork, pressing the point of the tines gently against her exposed forearm.

Her mother turned, only just becoming aware of the boy. "What are you doing?" she cried in alarm, noting that he was quite possibly the most adorable child she'd ever seen.

"She thinks I might be another one of the dead people she sees, but I'm not, I just wanted to show her that I'm real." He replied calmly.

"Who are you, and what are you talking about?" the man questioned, but seemed to be more frightened at the possible answer to the second part of his question. Andrew knew very well that the man knew exactly what he was talking about; the real question on his mind was how Andrew knew.

"Andrew," the girl answered for him, "his name's Andrew."

"Amy, you know this boy?" her mother asked.

"No, I've never seen him before." Amy just kept looking at him, smiling shyly.

Shannon was becoming concerned, he'd been gone at least five minutes, she didn't sense any disquiet coming from him, but wanted to know what he was up to all the same. She excused herself from the table; Boone and Rob were still talking, and followed his energy across the room.

He was seated at a table with a family of three, smiling at the little girl in the chair across from him; the four of them were talking quietly.

"Andrew?" she frowned, glancing at the others at the table. "What are you doing?"

"It was Amy, Shan; she's the one I could sense. You felt it too." He explained.

"Uh, Andrew," she started warningly, unsure how to finish. Just how much had he revealed to these people?

The man stood, "You must be Andrew's mother, I'm Tim and this is my wife, Anne, and as Andrew just said, our daughter's name is Amy."

Shannon smiled a bit uncomfortably, "Shannon Rutherford."

'She sees dead people, just like Jack,' Andrew informed her.

"She what?" Shannon blurted. If he hadn't already told them all about their abilities, she'd just pretty much taken care of revealing everything they'd always kept hidden, by reacting to his unspoken information. "You didn't…" As she glanced in alarm between the three others at the table she finished the thought, 'tell them about Jack, did you?'

When Rob left to return to the kitchen, after having issued an invitation to Boone to come back tomorrow night and spend some time observing how he ran his kitchen, Boone suddenly realized that not only was he sitting at an otherwise empty table, he had no idea where his family had gone, or for how long. He vaguely remembered Shannon excusing herself, but absorbed in this conversation with the chef, he hadn't registered Andrew's departure at all.

He left his credit card in the folder with the check and rose from the table to go and find them.

Shannon had pulled a chair up to the table as well, now all five of them were deep in casual, friendly discussion. As he approached, Shannon gave the small group one of her award winning smiles, tossing her head in one of her signature gestures. He found himself smiling in response, even though he didn't know what it was she was even happy about.

Anne looked up at the extremely attractive man approaching their table, assuming that this was the last member of the very photogenic, and somewhat strange, family she'd been introduced to tonight.

He was quickly introduced and brought up to speed on just why Andrew and Shannon were sitting with, what up till now were, complete strangers.

The girl, Amy, had manifested her ability at a young age, apparently passed down through her maternal grandmother. She was only marginally psychic as well, but in combination it had been enough for Andrew to have imprinted on her.

As they talked a little longer, Amy kept glancing at Boone frowning slightly each time. She suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist. Boone stiffened slightly in his chair as she gasped, "You were dead."

He pulled his wrist out of her clutch and rubbed it holding it against his chest. He stared at her, his eyes wide, before pushing his chair back and staggering from the table.

"How did you know that? What did you do to him?" Shannon asked the girl.

"It was just that there was something about him, I…I didn't mean to, but I made him remember, I'm sorry." She apologized as Shannon rose, following her husband.

In the men's room Boone ran cold water into the sink and splashed his face with it, then dried it with some paper towel, and pressed his forehead against the cool of the tiles on the wall. He was shaken, the memories he'd repressed of that brief time screaming like nails on a blackboard through his head. He felt his heart racing, and offered brief thanks to Jack that he was still around to have a heart to race. Shannon came up behind him a rested her hand on his shoulder. He turned at her touch and gratefully let her pull him into an embrace.

A man pushed open the door, and seeing the two of them, did a double take, checking that the sign on the door really did indicate that this was the men's room before walking behind them and entering a stall.

She felt Boone heave against her. 'Don't, just don't, don't let it win, just calm down.'

He fought the nausea as his stomach clenched again. He pulled away from her and turned to the counter, supporting himself on his arms, his elbows locked, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was deathly pale except for two bright spots of pink on his cheeks, his grey eyes were flat and almost colourless, earlier they'd shone bright blue, picking up the colour in his sweater. Now they looked like the empty, broken, windows in an abandoned tract house.

"I haven't thought about that in years. Suddenly it was like it was only yesterday." He kept his voice low. His stomach flipped again and he closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. "I didn't want to die, Shan, not then at least, and I sure as fuck didn't want to remember it tonight, or really, _ever_ again."

"I know, honey. But you didn't _stay_ dead Boone, you came back to me." Even though, at the time, she wasn't yet his to come back to. "Amy didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sure of it, she's just probably never met anyone who's had the same experience you've had, and given what she can do, it only makes sense that she'd realize you were different."

"I guess," he allowed.

"We should get back; she's probably feeling pretty bad right now. I think your reaction, and mine, kind of scared her. And Andrew will want to know you're okay. She seems like a nice enough kid, and I think Andrew might have a bit of a crush on her." Shannon watched for his reaction to the last.

"What? He's not even ten yet, that's way too early to have his first crush." Boone protested.

"Oh, _really_? And you, of course," Shannon started in a sarcastic tone, "would know all about that because you were what, oh let's see, um _ten_ when we met? And you've certainly professed often enough that you've loved me since you were, oh, what was that number again, oh yeah I think it was _ten_?"

Boone looked embarrassed, "Okay, smart ass, point proven."

She was relived to see that his eyes weren't haunted anymore; she'd managed to kid him out of his black thoughts of earlier.

"Come here," she demanded, pulling his into her arms and kissing him.

They guy came out of the stall and glanced at them again, frowning as he washed his hands.

Shannon pulled away from the kiss, smirking evilly and quirking her eyebrows. "Come on we better get back to the table before my husband, or your wife suspect something, we wouldn't want them to find out about our affair."

The guy gave them a startled look and scuttled out of the restroom.

Boone hung his head shaking it as he shrugged and laughed silently at her never ending audacity.


	2. Chapter 2

When they returned to the table, the four seated there looked at him in concern. The Cooper's dinner had been served while Boone and Shannon were in the men's room.

"Boone?" Andrew started, "Are you okay?"

Anne was startled again that he called his parents by their first names.

He smiled a little wanly at his son and nodded his head, they both took their seats after making sure they weren't intruding, now that the food had arrived.

"You didn't…?" Andrew narrowed his eyes slightly trying to determine if Boone had thrown up again, he was always letting himself get worked up to the point of nausea. The boy was understandably very protective of his father, Shannon could take care of herself, but Boone was a different matter. Sensitive, trusting and more than just a bit naïve, he wasn't as strong as either one of them.

"No, I didn't, I'm okay." He assured the boy, immediately understanding the rest of the unfinished question.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Carlyle; I didn't mean to hurt you." Amy looked upset.

"Please Amy, it's Boone," he corrected her for the third time, "and I know you didn't." Shannon noted that he was very careful not to brush against the girl, not wanting the memories to resurface that her earlier touch had reawakened.

"Andrew's told us a little bit, and Shannon filled in a few details too, before you came over, but we'd really like to hear your whole story, you've heard ours, and we're understandably curious." Tim and Anne were looking at him; Amy was still exchanging shy glances with Andrew.

"Yeah, well, about that, it's not something that we talk about, especially not in public, and you guys just got your food." Boone pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a business card, he suddenly didn't care that they'd assured them that they weren't intruding; he just needed to get out into the fresh air. "We've got a chalet rented not too far from here, why don't we give you directions," he held out the card. "And here's my cell in case you get lost. Come by for coffee after your dinner."

They agreed, and on the way out of the restaurant, they both noted that Andrew glanced back at Amy a couple of times.

One the walk back, they stopped at a liquor store and a market. Boone wanted coffee and tea for that evening as well as breakfast supplies for the morning. There was no way he was going to let his family eat some greasy super-sized restaurant breakfast and they certainly weren't hitting the slopes on an empty stomach.

Back home they settled in the living room. Boone built a fire, one of the many skills he'd learned on the island that had proven to be useful in real life, and Andrew popped a video game in the console. Boone surprised him when he declined the second controller, instead sitting beside Shannon on the couch, then surprising her by switching positions, lying down with his head in her lap. He took a couple of deep breaths, then closed his eyes, falling quickly into a light sleep.

She stroked his hair gently, though he'd hidden the worst of what he'd experienced after Amy's touch, she knew it had shaken him deeply, and taken more than a bit of wind out of his sails.

She idly watched Andrew playing an R.P.G. and sent calming thoughts to the slumbering Boone. She figured the coming conversation was going to take even more out of him.

When the knock came at the door Shannon sent Andrew to answer it. "I need to wake him up," she explained needlessly, wishing that his cell had rung and they'd called to beg off.

Andrew answered the door, admitting their expected visitors, and showed them where to hang their coats.

When Andrew led the way back into the living room his parents were sitting on the couch kissing. "Oh, I'm sorry," Anne apologized flustered.

As they pulled slowly apart, Andrew shrugged, "Don't sweat it, they do it _all_ the time." He rolled his eyes at Amy, who giggled in response.

Boone stood smiling, "He's right, we do." He snorted a little laugh at just how true that was, then went to get the coffee and tea he'd started when they first got home, coming back in after a few minutes with a tray, including water for the kids.

Everyone had found a place to sit, Andrew a bit too close to Amy on the love seat for Boone's liking though. He offered brandy along with the hot drink, and to Shannon's surprise poured himself one as well. He must have been even more shaken than she'd imagined by his experience earlier, he so rarely drank hard liquor.

They started off with some small talk, what they did for a living, where they were from, which was New Jersey in the case of the Cooper's. Boone breathed a sign of relief at the fact that they were all the way on the other side of the continent, before hearing that they were relocating to Los Angeles in two months. Fan-fucking-tastic Boone thought, glancing again at Andrew and Amy. Okay, he was just getting way too obsessive about this; they were just kids for Christ's sake. Even though he'd loved Shannon since he was ten, _those_ particular kinds of thoughts, the ones he was imagining in his head, hadn't evolved till he was quite a few years older.

"So, how does it happen that a whole family of people with ESP comes about?" Tim finally got to the meat of the matter.

"We weren't born with it, at least I don't think that we were, well…maybe we were, but we didn't know it." Boone started fumbling with the details; he'd been hoping, completely futilely, he realized, that they'd just not pursue the subject.

Shannon frowned at him, "God you're an idiot, could you possibly _be_ any more confusing?" Now that the subject had been broached, she just wanted it over and done with.

Andrew hid a smile, while Tim and Anne looked at each other a little nervously.

"I'm trying, it's just that we've only ever explained it fully to Tom and Heather, Joan just got the bare bones, and I'm not necessarily sure that _we_ understand it." Boone protested; he still felt extremely uncomfortable telling the story to people they'd only just met that night, regardless of the ability of their daughter. He was starting to get a little annoyed with how Andrew had painted them into a corner.

"Oh, just shut it." Shannon shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, my brother's an idiot." She turned to look at him.

They looked at her startled, "Your brother?" Anne was looking incredulous, and a little bit sick.

"My step-brother, whatever, he's not too bright." She answered absently. Shannon was glaring at him, and he was giving it right back to her.

"Aaand now I'm not too bright? You bi…" Boone started.

"Okay, guys, this isn't going well, stop!" Andrew broke in, acting as mediator, a role he found it necessary to adopt all too often.

They relaxed back into the cushions, a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, force of habit, we've fought with each other for over twenty years, it just comes naturally." Shannon apologized.

"Not usually in front of strangers though, right _dear?" _Boone still held on to a slim thread of anger.

"Drop it, _honey_," she cautioned.

He took a swig of his brandy, and turned bright red as the booze burned down his throat. Shannon just laughed at him.

"You want me to try?" she asked, he just nodded, trying not to cough, tears in his eyes, his face a truly lovely shade of crimson, she thought.

"Boone's my brother, my step-brother actually. We've known each other since I was eight and he was ten." She proceeded to give them a brief overview of the events that directly lead up to their discovery of their ability, purposely leaving out anything not pertinent. There was a lot that wasn't anybody's business but theirs, and certainly not the concern of almost complete strangers. The Cooper's didn't remember the plane crash at all, which wasn't surprising considering it had been over ten years prior.

"We'd been there maybe five months when I was looking for something in our cave. When I couldn't find it, I was convinced that he'd moved it purposely, just to piss me off. I was cursing him in my head when he turned to me and said 'Nice language,' I knew very well that I hadn't said anything out loud, but he kept insisting that I had. I mean it wasn't like I _wouldn't_ have said it out loud, but I knew damn well that I didn't. Our argument escalated to such a degree that Michael had to come and tell us to tone it down." That was a common occurrence, but she wasn't going to tell them that. "After Michael left, I was sure that I heard him start cursing me, that's when I rounded on him."

"I thought she was going to take my head off." Boone laughed. "It's not really a good idea to incite a woman when she's threatening you with your own walking stick and is five months pregnant, they're kind of grouchy at that point." Shannon punched him, playfully, in the arm. "But then _I_ knew _I_ hadn't actually spoken, so I started wondering about how she'd protested so vehemently earlier."

"After we calmed down, we started experimenting, then we went to Jack, we were sure we were going crazy." Shannon paused to take a mouthful of coffee.

Anne and Tim were convinced at this point that, ESP not withstanding, they were quite possibly the strangest couple they'd ever come across, the mix of hostility and love, the odd nature of their relationship, the traumatic events in their past, truly unsettling.

"He had no idea exactly what trigged it just when it did, but it was just like someone flipped a switch. We went from totally unaware, to living in each others heads to the point of insanity until we learned how to control it." Shannon looked at him, lost in her memories for a second.

"Jack gave me a book, and as I read it, Shan recited the words out loud. It scared the shit out of both of us." Boone recalled.

Shannon continued. "I was about six months in, when we started being aware of Andrew too. It wasn't like he had any real thoughts; it was more just a realization that there was another intelligence sharing our minds with us." She glanced at the boy.

They wrapped up the rest of the story pretty quickly after that, there really wasn't much more to say anyway, and it wasn't like they could actually explain how the island had managed to affect them the way it had. They conveyed that the two of them could only read each other, Andrew, and most of the other survivors to varying degrees, but that Andrew could read anyone, having gotten the ability from both parents, as well as having spent his entire gestation period being moulded by the island's influence.

They talked a while longer, but when the Cooper's started to press them for explanations they didn't have or didn't want to offer, they started to get a little uncomfortable. Andrew, sensing their disquiet, came to their rescue by announcing that he was ready for bed.

As they showed them out, Anne apologized if they'd made them ill at ease. In response Boone just said that they figured that the subject was pretty much closed now, and that, just as they wouldn't reveal their knowledge about Amy, they hoped the consideration would be reciprocated.

Shannon closed the door and leaned back against it, "Okay, is it just me, or was that really, really weird?"

"I imagine they're probably saying the same thing. God we seemed crazy, and Andrew Carlyle, so help me," he turned to his son, "if you _ever_ put us in a situation like that again, I swear I'll lock you in your room for the rest of your life." Boone warned. He opened his mouth to make an excuse. "Shht, I've had enough of you for today, go to bed, _now_."

The boy hung his head and headed up the stairs.

"Christ, I need a drink." Shannon sighed.

"Good, idea." He agreed.

They sat in silence, sipping their brandies, mulling over the events of the evening, before heading upstairs to bed.

He was already naked and in bed when she slipped in beside him, he'd flipped the switch on the gas fireplace and set the thermostat on it, so that when she turned out the light the comforting flicker of its' flames filled the room.

'Love me?' Shannon phrased it purposefully as a double entendre.

'If you insist, I will,' Boone slid on top of her, immediately grasping the duplicitous intention behind her question, just as she'd meant. 'Still think I'm an idiot?'

'Only if you don't start doing something pretty quickly,' she responded, playfully.

He moved against her, teasingly, kissing her mouth; then moving down her neck, his hand caressing, tickling, arousing. When she was ready, he flipped them over pulling her onto him, and pushed her back, so that she was straddling him. He sat and scooted over to the side of the bed. As he stood she slid her arms over his shoulders, locking her ankles behind his back, not having any idea what he had in mind, but more than willing to go with it.

He headed for the balcony door, pulling a pillow off a chair as he passed.

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" She asked out loud, pulling her head back to look into his eyes.

"No, I want you, outside." He supported her with one arm as he reached for the door handle.

"It's frickin' freezing out there," she pointed out.

"We'll be quick then." He put the cushion on the flat board that topped the wooden railing, he'd check it out earlier, assuring himself that it came to just below his hips, and sat her on it. 'Hold on, I don't want to lose you over the edge.'

'Thanks for the heads up, 'cause I wouldn't have been able to figure it out for myself,' she was already starting to shiver.

What he did next made her forget all about the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

Boone got them up early the next morning. They were scheduled to meet the snowboard instructor at nine-thirty, and he wanted them to have a good breakfast in them before then. He was paying the guy a considerable sum and was determined to get his money's worth.

He was standing at the stove when Shannon came down to the kitchen, dressed in a very tight fitting and revealing set of long underwear. Who knew something so old-fashioned could be so provocative? He leaned back from the range as she passed and gave her the once over.

"You're looking at my ass, aren't you," she asked as she went around the table.

"No, no, not at all," he lied quickly, turning back to stirring the saucepan, trying to not get in trouble.

"Too bad, asswipe, because that would have earned you some brownie points; even a woman my age likes to know she's appreciated." She sat at the table and looked at him.

"Well, maybe I was, a little." He allowed, hanging his head, a bit embarrassed.

"You're so fucking easy, God but I love you." She snorted laughter at his discomfort.

He briefly wondered if this was how she was with every guy she'd been with. Their relationship was so complex, he couldn't imagine a Brian or a Mark, reacting the same way he did. He poured her coffee and set it in front of her, turning the mug so the handle faced her, and considered broaching the subject when Andrew walked in.

"Hey guys," he greeted them, as Boone handed him a mug of tea and milk; he took it and went over to kiss Shannon's cheek.

"Hey, bud," she ruffled his hair.

He was positively vibrating with excitement. "You aren't looking forward to this at all, are you?" she asked sarcastically.

He was as quick as she was; it was like it was a contest. "Looking forward to what?" He asked innocently.

He'd bested her; she was impressed, "Oh, I don't know, lunch at Subway?"

"I prefer Quizno's, after all, toasted tastes better, but I'm pretty excited, yeah." He shrugged.

They dissolved into laughter. Boone just shook his head as he dished out breakfast.

They both appeared unimpressed at the bowls of oatmeal he placed in front of them. Tentatively, he added a peanut butter topped slice of whole grain toast and some fruit. They both just looked at him.

"Have we been especially bad?" Shannon asked, poking her spoon at the semi-solid mass.

"Can't you guys at least try it?" Boone coaxed, he wanted them to have a hot nutritious breakfast; the day was probably going to be pretty physically draining.

Andrew took a deep breath and dug his spoon in. His expression changed as he tasted it. 'It's pretty good, actually,' he allowed, his mouth still full.

Shannon shot him a distrustful glance, as she spooned up a portion, her expression changing as she tasted it. "It's not bad."

"I put some freshly grated apple and clover honey in it with…" Boone started enthusing.

"You must have mistaken me for someone who gives a shit." Shannon cut him off. She was always pretty snarky in the mornings till she had a full cup of coffee.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he looked a bit crestfallen, the smile faded from his face as he got his own bowl from the counter.

Andrew kicked her under the table, 'Great way to start the day, Shan, making him feel bad. Fix it.'

"Is that cinnamon, I taste?" she took a stab at identifying an ingredient.

Boone nodded, and sat, knowing she was trying to make up to him, realizing that she shouldn't really have to, he'd reacted badly. His old habits still came just far too easily; he cursed himself silently for readopting the beaten puppy body language, and straightened in the chair. "Sorry Shan, I know you didn't mean it the way I took it. Momentary relapse on my part is all. I'm trying."

"Yeah, you're very trying." She quipped.

That won her a small smile.

"You sure you're okay?" Boone nodded. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Sometimes it's really hard to know how you're going to react to something, sometimes you're okay, and I can verbally joust with you just fine, then other times you get all small and folded in on yourself." She frowned a bit.

He breathed a little laugh, "I was just thinking the exact same thing. I'm doing better though, right?"

"You're doing better." She gave him her best smile, and he felt like the sun had come out just for him.

Andrew reached for the paper and looked for the comics section. Turning it to the word scramble, he picked up the pen Boone had laid by his place and started filling it in, alternately eating bites of breakfast, and writing letters in the little squares.

"Where's your wrist brace?" Boone noticed after a few minutes.

"In my room," he answered absently, tapping the top of the pen on his chin.

"Don't even think about not wearing it today." Boone watched him. "We didn't have it made, at the doctor's suggestion, for this trip, so it could sit on your dresser."

Shannon hid a smile; there it was again, the parenting method Boone had adopted. She wondered whether it had been a conscious decision, or he'd just fallen into it. He rarely ever gave Andrew a direct order, usually employing some kind of version of a double negative instead, making it seem more like the kid had some kind of say in it, appealing to how intelligent he was. It was so diametrically opposite to how Boone had been raised, what with the cold commands and snide remarks with which Sabrina had routinely cut her son. Regardless of whether Andrew had actually planned on not wearing the brace or not, the only answer to the statement Boone had just made, that wouldn't make Andrew appear foolish, was to agree completely. Which, now of course he did.

"I wasn't thinking that. I just figured I'd put it on before we left for the slopes, after breakfast. I'm sure that even _your_ oatmeal's not heavy enough that I need added support to lift a spoonful of it to my mouth." He couldn't resist being a bit smart.

"Funny," Boone commented dryly, and picked up a section of the paper.

"It's a good thing you broke your left wrist, otherwise you'd have had to give up your puzzles." Shannon commented.

"Why?" he frowned.

She was confused, "Well, because you couldn't write."

He switched the pen to his other hand, and signed his name in the margin of the paper, and held it out to her, his frown mirroring her own confusion. She looked at the perfectly legible writing, almost exactly the same as he signed with his right hand. "You're ambidextrous?" He nodded, looking at her like she was an idiot. She tried to remember if she'd ever seen him writing with his left hand, but she just wasn't the kind to pay that much attention to details.

She reached over and plucked the paper out of Boone's hand, he blinked, startled. "He's ambidextrous?" she demanded.

"Yeah." He answered cautiously, now he was frowning too.

"You might have told me." She rose from her chair a little, leaned across the table, and smacked him on the head with the folded paper.

"I didn't think of it," he shrugged. "It'd be like telling you he's blonde, it's just something he is."

"God, I call myself his mother, and I didn't even know this. What else are you hiding?" Shannon demanded.

Andrew went back to his puzzle, tuning out their casual bickering.

After breakfast they tidied up and loaded their stuff into the rental car. The drive to the resort wasn't far, so even with the side trip to the supermarket that they thought Boone threw in at the last minute, but which he'd planned, they were there well in advance of their nine-thirty appointed time. They piled out of the car, and Boone shifted his purchases from the grocery bags to his backpack. Shannon had seen him stuffing some things from the kitchen into it before they'd left the house. They went up to the ticket building, and picked up the pre-paid passes for the week that Boone had bought on-line, then stood uncertainly off to the side, not sure where to meet the instructor. Shannon waited for her husband to go and ask for information.

Finally becoming frustrated at how he just kept looking around, a lost expression on his face, she decided to take charge. "Okay, _I'll_ find out where we're supposed to meet this guy. Way to step up, dipshit."

"I was just trying to get my bearings," he made an excuse to her retreating back.

Boone had never been at a ski resort before, so it was all a new experience to him. All the times there'd been a planned school trip to a local resort, he'd had some track meet or other obligation, so he'd never actually been able to go. The colourful ski clothes, the masses of people, the sight of the skiers and snowboarders gliding down the hill, all new and invigorating. He smiled at Andrew and hugged his shoulder. "This was a great idea, bud."

Andrew was just as excited as Boone, and the fact that he'd arranged the activity that had resulted in the huge smile pasted on Boone's face, significantly adding to his joy. He knew Boone deserved all the happiness he could get.

Shannon came back, a man wearing a ski suit in the resort colours accompanying her.

"This is Brian." She flicked a glance at him as she announced the man's name. Boone did a bit of a double take. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged, it wasn't like it was an uncommon name.

They did introductions all around and Brian asked some questions, needing to know their level of snowboarding experience. At the revelation that they were all complete novices, though Shannon was a fairly experienced skier, he led them over to the bunny hill, and walked them up it.

Throughout the morning they proceeded with the basics of learning to stand and traverse across the hill, one foot strapped into the board, the other pushing along beside in a skating motion. At one point, Boone got kind of shifted down the fall line and ended up with both feet on the board, the back one braced against his back binding. He slid a fair distance down the hill, pin-wheeling his arms the whole way, but surprisingly staying on his feet before he could bring the board to a stop, falling on his ass in the snow. He released his front foot and walked back up the hill to where the others were waiting. He looked a little pleased with himself.

"You did good, there." Brian congratulated him. "But it wasn't the result you were planning on, you have to stay in control, you were just supposed to go across the hill. You could seriously hurt yourself or someone else if you lose it."

Boone listened intently, nodding his head in understanding. Shannon and Andrew glanced at each other exchanging a grin; he was so damn cute, drinking in the instructions like a sponge. Boone asked a few questions, filing away the answers in his head, you could almost see him shuffling through them and cataloguing them like a librarian employed the Dewey Decimal system. Shannon figured once he slept on it, his mind reshaping his thinking while his body rested, he'd come out tomorrow and surprise them all with how well he'd do. Either that or she'd be taking him home in a wheel chair. She certainly hoped for the former, but given how clumsy he was, she wasn't going to count her chickens quite yet.

They broke for lunch, Brian suggesting they all go to the restaurant in the main building. But, typical Boone, he'd packed them a lunch and asked instead if there was a place they could eat their own food. Thinking ahead he'd brought enough for the three of them plus one, anticipating that their instructor would be having lunch with them.

Locking their snowboards into the slots provided, he got his backpack from the car and they headed into the lodge

The antipasto spread he laid out was amazing; olives, pepperoncini, lean capicollo, fruit, low fat cheeses and whole grain bread. Who knew you accomplish so much in fifteen minutes in a local market? He pulled a few bottles of a popular sports drink out last, along with cutlery, plates and napkins.

"This is better than we'd get at the restaurant, that's for sure." Brian was impressed.

"Boone's a caterer." Andrew explained, around a mouthful of grapes.

"I should be so lucky with all of my students." Brian picked up a piece of meat and put it on a chunk of bread with some cheese and a slice of apple.

The people at the next table were craning their necks, enviously scoping out what the small party was eating. Boone smiled shyly in humility.


	4. Chapter 4

The afternoon found them doing more of the same at first. But soon Brian set them to practicing standing on the slope with the board attached to both feet, next came actually gliding down the hill. He had them find their balance then point the board down hill, keeping the heel-side edge dug into the snow to prevent it from slipping. He got Boone to try first, seeing as he'd accidentally already tried it that morning. They all watched, Shannon and Andrew more than a little amazed, as he made it to the bottom, not only without falling, but actually managing to look pretty proficient.

"He's a natural." Brian commented.

They both looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "No he's not." They chimed, together.

"What?" Brian was confused.

"Boone's the poster boy for the word "klutz", look it up in the dictionary and there's a picture of him." Shannon assured him.

He shrugged, "Well, not at snowboarding, that's for sure."

Andrew went next, only falling twice. Then it was Shannon's turn. She kept trying to adopt a skiing posture, and repeatedly kept turning the board sideways to the hill, digging the forward edge into the snow and falling hard, remembering at the last minute to fall on her forearms, not wanting to end up with a broken wrist. Brian slid down to her position, again and again, trying to talk her out of her natural inclination to point her feet down the fall line. She finally made it to the bottom, looking more than a little like the abominable snowman, the white stuff stuck to her jacket and pants in clumps.

Boone and Andrew were talking animatedly, still excited by their first descent.

"Fuck off," she snarked on reaching them.

"Huh?" they turned to her. They'd been so engrossed in their own conversation about their experience that they hadn't even realized the trouble she'd had getting down the hill.

"Don't play stupid, stupid." She smacked Boone on the arm.

"Stupid, stupid…nice Shan, you should take that act on the circuit. You want to tell me why you're sounding so ridiculous?" He responded.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy watching me fall down that entire hill!" she spat.

"Shan, um, we weren't even watching." Andrew provided, tentatively, shrugging.

"I was snowboarding for the first time ever and you weren't watching?" Now she was pissed that they hadn't even been watching, though a minute ago, she'd been embarrassed by her ineptitude.

"Sorry?" Boone offered.

"Stuff it, asshole." She reached down and undid her back binding and moved off toward the lift line, Brian had told them that when they reached the bottom, he felt that they were finally ready to get off at the top of the chair lift, so they didn't have to walk back up the hill.

"She's a real firecracker, that one." Brian observed.

"She's the fucking munitions dump at Hanoi." Boone corrected.

Andrew hid a chuckle, while Boone grinned like a high-schooler, Brian just looked confused.

"My wife's a bit of a handful." Boone explained.

He watched after her as she skated the board away from them.

After a few more hours, Brian decided to call it a day after Boone started falling as well. He had definitely turned out to be the most proficient of the three, so if he was starting to struggle, the others probably weren't too far from sustaining a possible injury brought on by fatigue.

After making arrangements to meet the next morning, the weary trio headed for the rental car. The roomy cargo area in the gigantic vehicle easily accommodated the three snowboards. As Boone climbed up into the drivers' seat he made a derogatory remark, not his first, about the ridiculous excess of gas guzzling, luxury SUV's in general. Shannon thought he looked a little like a teenage boy who'd borrowed his daddy's land yacht, appearing even smaller than usual behind the wheel of the behemoth. She refrained from pointing out that he'd actually requested that particular automobile, knowing what they'd be transporting in it.

"But we're only renting it; it's not something you'd actually _consider_ as an everyday vehicle." He looked at her sharply in disapproval, picking up on her thought.

"No Boone, of course not," she huffed a sigh, rolling her eyes. "I simply meant that it has its' place, just like _your_ more environmentally friendly, safe, boring, diesel sedan." He always bought the same damned car every three years, she hadn't been surprised at all when she'd pulled into the driveway for the first time this past summer, and seen it sitting there.

They stopped at the market again on the way home, and he did a proper shopping, filling a grocery cart with everything he thought he'd need for the coming week. He liked to buy his fish fresh daily, so he only picked up enough of that for dinner that night and lunch the next day. Shannon and Andrew had been fervently hoping that the place didn't have a seafood counter, but to no avail, as he'd spied it on the back wall and headed over to chat up the guy behind the ice filled glass display.

Back at the chalet the three of them made short work of carrying the bags into the kitchen. Andrew picked up the newspaper from where they'd left it on the breakfast table that morning and turned to the movie listings.

"Hey guys, could we maybe go to the movies tonight? There's a show at six-thirty that we talked about seeing." He suggested.

"Aren't you kind of tired?" Boone queried.

"No, I'm good." He shrugged. "Do you think maybe we could call the Cooper's and see if Amy could come with us?" He tried to sound nonchalant.

Shannon bit her lip, laughing she asked, "So is it a movie you want to see, or Amy?"

"Well…both?" He winced a bit, managing to look both hopeful and embarrassed.

Boone took a deep breath, still not sure why he was having such a hard time dealing with this. "What about dinner?"

"We can grab something out, or at the theatre." He came back with an answer.

"Popcorn is _not_ a meal." Boone was unimpressed.

"Oh, shit, you have to go to Rob's, the restaurant? He asked you back for tonight?" She reminded him.

"Fuuuck," he groaned.

They called the Cooper's and arranged to pick Amy up. Boone would go to the restaurant, while Shannon and Andrew would take Amy to the movies. They piled back into the rental, Shannon behind the wheel, for some reason not looking quite as ridiculous driving a car the size of most urban living rooms, as Boone had. She dropped him off on the way.

The movie was good, a sequel to an action adventure that'd come out a few years before. When they dropped Amy off back at her hotel, Tim came out to speak to Shannon, asking if they'd all like to meet and go out to dinner the next night.

She shook her head, "Boone won't want to go out to eat twice in one week." Three times, she thought, considering he'd probably been comped his dinner for that night by Rob. "He's not really big on eating out." She apologized. "But you could come by for dinner. He can cook us something at home." She offered an alternative.

They agreed on that, Shannon just hoping that Boone would be okay with it. Neither of them had been too comfortable with how curious the Coopers' had been the night before. She was hopeful that Boone's assertion that the matter was closed would forestall any further questioning.

Out front of Rob's establishment, she pulled the car up to the curb in a no parking zone, and turned to Andrew, "Tell Boone we're waiting."

When he didn't move to get out of the car, she repeated herself.

"I already did, he'll be out in a minute." Andrew answered sounding a bit annoyed.

"I meant for you to go in and get him." Shannon clarified.

"Why? What's the use of being able to tell him from here, if you expected me to go in?" He frowned at her. She was hardly the one to talk; she'd consistently abused Boone's rules about limiting their silent communication ability since she'd gotten back.

"Okay," she agreed.

Boone came out, zipping up his leather jacket, and climbed into the back seat. Unsurprisingly he smelled like cooking.

She glanced at him in the rear view, "You have fun?"

"I'm tired." He didn't answer her question, she frowned, concerned.

"I'll run you a whirlpool when we get back." She looked back again; he had his head tipped back against the seat, his eyes closed. He always pushed himself far too much.

She filled the Jacuzzi in the ensuite off the master bedroom while he puttered in the kitchen, turning on the coffee maker and setting the kettle on the stove. Andrew settled in front of the TV. Boone came upstairs and stripped off his clothes, asking her to bring him his tea when it was ready and join him in front of the fire with her coffee. He looked so tired, she was kind of worried about leaving him alone in the surging tub of hot water, concerned she'd come back and find him floating face down.

She set their mugs on the hearth and turned on the flames, hearing the bathroom door open, she turned. Boone was wearing his plaid flannel sleep pants and drying his hair with a towel. She admired the play of muscle in his chest and arms.

He sighed, thanking her, and hung the towel over the footboard of the bed, reaching for his t-shirt.

"Don't." she asked.

He was confused, "Don't what?"

"Don't put your shirt on." She explained.

"Why the hell not?" he frowned.

She snatched the shirt out of his hand. "Could you possibly _be_ any more of an idiot?"

"I'm seriously not following, here." He shook his head.

"Christ Boone, I just want to look at you."

"You can look at me with my shirt on, for fuck sakes." He was tired and cranky.

"I'll let you look at my legs." Shannon suggested, unzipping her fly and pushing the pants off. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation, giving her the up and down. She sweetened the deal by pulling her own shirt and bra off, and pulling his commandeered t-shirt on in their stead.

"I'm supposed to be the crazy one, but you're acting pretty nuts yourself." Boone observed.

"I can't want to look at my own husband shirtless?" She laughed.

"Whatever." He chuckled in amusement and lowered himself to the carpet, leaning back against the ottoman of the armchair to the left of the fireplace.

She took up the opposite position against the ottoman on the right side. Almost immediately she felt herself responding to how the flicker of the flames was doing amazing things to the tone and planes of his exposed skin.

He reached out and started massaging her closest foot, seeming to enjoy the sensation just as much as she did.

"So what was it like in a professional kitchen?" She tried to focus.

"Way different than our place, that's for sure. No wonder Kevin found it so hard to get used to working with me." Kevin was the professionally trained chef Boone had hired to work under him.

She shook her head, waiting for more of an explanation.

"Well they all call Rob, 'Chef'. If someone did that to me I'd either look over my shoulder, trying to figure out who they were talking to, or I'd figure they were talking to Kevin." He explained.

"You deserve it if that's the proper way they should be addressing you." Her eyes fluttered briefly as his thumb ground against her instep.

"No. You know me, I get all weirded out if someone even calls me 'Mr. Carlyle.' It just sounds like I deserve some kind of consideration." He knew he wasn't really explaining it well.

"Boone, for Christ's sake, you're a successful businessman, cut yourself some slack. Shit, can't you admit you're good at something?" like foot massages, she thought.

He dropped her foot, and looked thoughtfully into the gas generated fire. "I've never been good at anything." He muttered, simply.

The flames light his face in the same haunted way she knew he was thinking. "You're good at a lot of things."

"I fool myself, but it's not true, I don't really even know why you love me." He didn't sound upset, just contemplative.

"You're my brother…" she started.

"That's just wrong, Shan." He cut in.

"Shut up. You're my soul mate, you're my lover, you're my best friend, you're everything to me Boone," She tipped her head and regarded him. "Don't sell yourself short. You're way too hard on yourself."

"I can't help it. I was never good enough, my mother, you. I tried, but I was never good enough. Help me Shan," he was starting to cry, "please." He begged, his fatigue adding to his misery.

She held him, understanding the pain he was feeling, the pain that he was going to feel for the rest of his life, resigning herself to working it through with him, for all the hell she'd put him through, it was the least she could do.


	5. Chapter 5

He pulled away from her after a minute, and sniffed. "Shit, where did _that_ come from?" sometimes his _own_ mood swings caught him off guard. "I was okay, and then I was totally out in left field. Sorry, Shan."

"You're just over tired." She looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "What did you have for supper?"

Boone rubbed the heels of his hands across his eyes, eliminating most of the tears. "Well…nothing."

"So you're tired _and_ hungry. If I'd known you hadn't eaten, I would have brought you a sub, but I thought you'd eat at the restaurant." Shannon stood, pulling him up with her. "Your blood sugar's probably low. Jeeze Boone, you need to remember to eat regularly, no wonder you've got mood swings, and you're too thin as it is."

"You're the one who wanted me to keep my shirt off." If he was that thin, why would she have wanted to look at him?

"You're going to bed right now. I'm going to go downstairs and fix you some toast." He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "I'm capable of making toast!" she protested, assuming he was going to make a comment about her lack of kitchen skills.

"I was just going to ask if I could have peanut butter on it, and some grapes on the side." Boone whined, sounding like a five-year-old.

She shook her head and sighed, moving to the bed and pulling the covers back, "In," she commanded.

He reached down and started undoing the drawstring on his pants. "No, don't do that." Shannon reached out and stilled his hands.

"Huh?"

"Leave the pants on." Shannon explained.

"First I can't put my shirt _on_, now I can't take my pants _off?"_ He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I want you to get some sleep, if you take your pants off, and I know very well that you're naked under them, there's a pretty good chance that I won't be able to let that happen." She explained. "And while you're at it," she pulled his shirt off over her head, "put this on too."

Boone took it from her as she went and got her robe. Pulling on the t-shirt, he climbed into bed.

"Can I have…?" He started, falling silent as she got him his tea and his book. She glanced at the title, not surprised that it was a copy of 'Idiot's Guide to Snowboarding.' Of course he'd be reading up about a new sport he was trying.

'Thanks?' he tried.

"You're welcome." Shannon reached forward and brushed her thumb over his cheek, clearing the last of his tears. "I'll be right back. Stay." She leaned forward and kissed him. Thank god Andrew was so self-sufficient, one child was all she could handle, and Boone was certainly proving to be a handful.

Downstairs she sent Andrew to bed and popped some bread into the toaster. She fixed Boone his plate, spreading a generous amount of peanut butter on each slice of toast, and putting both red and green grapes on the side, as he'd requested.

When she re-entered the bed room his eyes were closed and the booked was fanned open on his chest. His hands were still holding the pages open. She put the plate down, as quietly as she could, on the bedside table.

He must have only _just_ fallen asleep, as the quiet clink roused him from sleep. "Hey, sorry, must have dozed off, thanks hon." He drew a deep breath, shaking his head to clear it, putting the book on the bed beside him. She handed him his snack.

"You're welcome. I'm just happy to be able do something for _you_ for a change." She shrugged, "Something wifely I mean, I guess." She sat on the edge of the bed; Boone scooted over a bit to make more room for her.

"You do wifely stuff." Boone replied, smiling suggestively.

"Okay, something wifely that's not sexual." Shannon clarified.

"Weeellll," He stretched the word out, kind of wincing, there really wasn't much wifely stuff that she did for him that wasn't sexual in nature.

"Whatever." She dismissed. "Are you up to eating? Because you don't have to if you're too tired, though I think you'd feel better if you did." Shannon ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm good," he reached for a piece of toast.

She knew she should probably leave it alone, but she had to reassure herself, and make his importance to her clear. A bit saddened that it was even necessary. "I plan on having you around for a good long time, so don't do anything stupid on me, Boone." She narrowed her eyes at him watchfully, concerned and thinking about earlier.

He lowered the toast, and his head. "I'm not planning on it." He muttered quietly.

Shannon reached forward and tipped his head up, "Why do you always have to make everything so fucking difficult?"

"I'm sorry. I put you through so much. I'm so sorry, Shan." He apologized, putting the untouched piece of toast back on the plate; he didn't look like he was going to break down again, though.

"You finished carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, Atlas?" She said, showing a surprising knowledge of mythology.

"What?" Boone straightened, raising his chin up off her hand.

"This is all my fault; all of it. You wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for me, but somehow you've managed to twist it so you've got all the guilt. Can you _say_ martyr, Boone?" She suddenly didn't feel like mincing her words. "I'm a big girl; I can take the blame when it's mine."

He looked back at her, blinking slowly, she could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"I guess I do try and twist things. I just want to make you happy, and I figure if I let you be the bad guy, then you won't be, so I try and make everything my fault. It's complicated, and I'm tired, and I'd really like to have my toast while it's still warm, so can we do this another time?" He looked at her hopefully.

"Eat your toast, Boone." She knew they'd be having this discussion again. He tried, he really did, but the old patterns were just so ingrained that every now and then, especially when he was overtired, like tonight, he fell back into them. He refused to go back to seeing a professional on a regular basis, so she was the alternative. Shannon stood.

"Where are you going?" Boone sounded almost alarmed.

"I'm just going to sit in the chair by the fire, and have my coffee. I'll be right over here." She said, placatingly, and went to sit in the chair, turning it so he could see her better, she picked up one of the magazines that was lying on the side table and scanned it, while he ate.

Shannon allowed him to get out of bed when he was finished, to brush his teeth and go to the bathroom, then she herded him back to the bed and tucked him in, leaning down to kiss him, before turning off the bedside light. Settling back into the chair again, she heard rustling from the bed, and assumed he was just getting comfortable. She glanced up after the sound stopped, to see that the clothes he'd been wearing were now laid at the foot of the bed. He was lying on his side, facing away from her; she could see his bare shoulder, he always _had_ hated wearing anything to bed. The only reason he'd worn pyjamas when they were growing up, was because of her random visits to his bed to seek solace in his presence after a particularly bad nightmare had awoken her.

She closed the magazine after about half an hour, stripped, and climbed in beside him, giving his shoulder a gentle push, guiding him onto his back. His head rolled limply to the other side, he was out cold and didn't even make a sound. She raised his arm and slid under it, pulling it around her shoulder. Snuggling up against him, she was asleep in minutes.

The next morning, the gentle tug of his mind brought her slowly awake. Becoming more aware, she resisted it, preferring to remain pressed up against him a little while longer. He pushed at her again, the tendrils of his consciousness digging deeper, finding pleasure centres in her brain, sharing feelings, pictures, thoughts. She responded in kind, stroking imaginary fingers over him, their shared heat spreading through them. His fingers tightened their grip on her shoulder, while hers did the same to his; otherwise their bodies remained motionless, their breathing becoming heavier and more irregular as the minutes passed. The sensations overwhelming her, Shannon jerked, involuntarily against his hip, the movement causing the leg she'd thrown over him the night before to ride up, sliding up the length of him, trapping him between his belly and her thigh. They'd been close to the edge anyway, so the physical contact of her skin against his erection was all that was needed to tip the balance. He came hard, their linked thoughts bringing her with him, they both cried out quietly.

Two of them lay there in silence for a few minutes, the incredible emotional intimacy of the almost exclusively mind driven experience taking longer to recover from than normal.

'That was different,' Shannon was the first to comment.

'Gives a whole new meaning to the words 'mind fuck' that's for sure.' Boone acknowledged, she could picture the smirk on his face, and opened her eyes, lifting her head off his shoulder to check to see if she was right. Yeah, the trademark smirk was there. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

'How did you know that would work?' she wondered.

'I didn't, it just kind of started happening and I went with it.' Boone admitted.

'Good call,' she smiled up at him.

'I feel kind of sticky, though. I really didn't expect it to go that far. It's kind of embarrassing; I couldn't tell you the last time I came all over myself.' He grimaced. 'I was probably still a teen.'

'You got me kind of sticky, too.' She commented, wryly, shifting against him. 'What did you do while I was gone? You were celibate for six years, I'm sure you must have done…something?' She asked, curiously.

'In the shower, I…god, this is embarrassing.' He repeated, sighing. 'I did it in the shower, but not often. I didn't feel the need. Maybe all the sex we had during the years we were together kind of had a carry over effect.' He breathed a laugh.

"Shower, now," he finally spoke. "I'm feeling kind of gross."

He threw the covers back off them, and slid carefully out of the bed, not really wanting to catch sight of himself. He crossed quickly to the bathroom, Shannon following closely behind.

They did it again in the shower, the more conventional way, though.


	6. Chapter 6

After a breakfast of French toast and sliced fresh oranges, Boone filled his backpack with what he'd prepared for lunch. He'd had a brief window of opportunity before he'd left for Rob's restaurant the night before and had taken full advantage of the time to get as much accomplished as he could. All that was left for him to do the following morning was basic assembly.

They drove to the hill, and found Brian without any trouble, waiting at the prearranged spot. He had them practice, for the first hour on the bunny hill, what they'd learned the day before; then headed them over to a steeper, longer slope.

After they got off the chair lift and gathered at the top of the hill, Shannon suddenly remembered that they were having company for dinner, but had completely gapped telling Boone. He was none too pleased at hearing the news just then, but at least she hadn't waited till five minutes before they were to arrive before informing him. Now, as well as having to focus on the lesson, he was going to have to plan a suitable meal for double the people he'd expected to feed. Mildly pissed at her, he headed the board down the slope, just needing a few minutes to himself. They watched as, yet again, he made it to the bottom without falling.

"A natural, I tell you." Brian commented.

"Yeah, a natural idiot," Shannon said. "He's been reading up on it; no wonder he's better at it than us. I saw his book last night. If anyone needs an "Idiot's Guide" to anything, it's Boone, fucking dick." She muttered the last two words under her breath.

They waited for him to rejoin them, when he did the morning's lessons proceeded.

Most of the morning passed without incident. The three of them all enjoying the experience and doing their best to follow Brian's instruction.

Unfortunately, Shannon ploughed into a guy late in the lesson. She'd been yelling at him to get out of the way, but he was wearing a PMD, and the volume must have been up high enough that he didn't hear her. They both went down in a heap and rolled a fair distance down the hill.

Boone and Andrew watched from the bottom of the slope, until both Shannon, and her unwitting victim, sat up on the hill. They headed for the lift as Brian descended to her position. By the time the two reached them, the other guy had already skied off, and Brian was dusting her off.

Boone could tell she was embarrassed, so didn't try to pull the whole 'concern' thing with her. "You want to pick a guy up Shan; I think there's better ways to do it than attempting to send him to the hospital. How'd you tell he was even your type before you flattened him?"

"Funny," She made a face at him. "Stupid idiot, they shouldn't allow morons like him on the hill."

Boone and Andrew exchanged a glance; of course she'd be blaming the other guy.

Brian had already determined what mistake she'd made that led to the board getting away from her, so he explained it to her now.

Boone narrowed his eyes, looking at her while Brian talked; there was a mark high on her left cheekbone. When the guy finished, Boone asked her if she remembered anything hitting her face.

"My face," she put her hands up to her cheeks and started to feel around, "No, not my face! Why are you saying that, what's wrong?"

"Stop," He chuckled at her reaction. "You've got a red mark on your cheek that's all."

Her hands fell to her sides.

"But, I think it's going to bruise, Shan." Boone pulled his glove off and reached out and grabbed her chin softly, tilting her head, assessing the minor damage. He also used the moment to admire how beautiful she was.

She was good at hiding things, but Boone could tell that she was still a little shaken by the collision. He glanced up at the sky and guessed the time as shortly after noon. 'You're tired.' He told Andrew.

'No, I'm not.' The boy frowned, not looking at Boone, guessing that if Boone was telling him this silently there was a reason for secrecy.

'You are if I say you are.' Boone metaphorically mentally kicked him, under the table.

"I'm kind of tired," Andrew finally got it. "Can we break for lunch now?"

At the bottom of the hill, Brian automatically headed for the same building they'd eaten in the day before.

"We're not going to the restaurant?" Boone asked, innocently.

"You mean you didn't bring lunch?" The man seemed a bit distressed. He'd been looking forward to whatever Boone had prepared for that days' noon meal, having described, in great detail, to his wife the night before what the guy had pulled out.

"I brought lunch." Boone assured him, grinning mischievously. He handed his snowboard over, so the guy could lock it up, and headed for the car to retrieve his backpack.

He'd made grilled shark steak sandwiches, on whole grain buns, with tarragon and dill sauce. There were raw veggies with a low fat dip, and for desert, bite sized pieces of fruit for scooping up the honey drizzled yoghurt.

Brian looked up at Shannon, "Can I keep him?"

"Hands off, he's taken." She rested her hand on her husband's thigh, squeezing it. 'God, but I love you.' She smiled at him.

'And they say a way to a _man's_ heart is through his stomach.' He smiled at her, shyly.

They finished the rest of the day, by the end of the afternoon Boone and Andrew were actually doing small, minor tricks with their boards, and Shannon had finally gotten the hang of the thing. Brian figured that by the end of the next day they'd all be pretty equally proficient.

He extended an invitation to his house for dinner to them for the next night, although he added the disclaimer that the food wasn't going to be anywhere near as good as Boone's. Boone told him with a smile, that he wouldn't share that particular admission with Brian's wife.

They parted company, agreeing to meet tomorrow at the same time and place as that morning.

They stopped, once again, at the market and the liquor store, Boone picking up the ingredients for that night's dinner that he was missing.

She hovered around the counter as he made up a batch of his oatmeal, pecan cookies, reaching into the bowl as he put it to one side, snagging a nut loaded finger full of cookie dough.

"Hey," he exclaimed, smacking her across the knuckles with the wooden spoon.

Shannon laughed and retreated from arms length with her prize, pulling bits of it off and popping them into her mouth.

She was seated now at the kitchen table and watching, fascinated and more than a little worried, as Boone sliced some washed, unpeeled potatoes. He was turned away from the counter, talking to her, not looking at the flashing blade as it cut even, regular slices, guiding the knife by touch alone. She had no idea how he did it, the quickly moving blade, and his seeming inattention, frightening her. He finished the one he was working on, and grabbed another, repeating the process, still enthusing to her about their day. He reached out for another, but encountered empty space and turned back to his work, surprised that he'd cut them all without even realizing it. "Oh, I'm done," he muttered.

"How is it you haven't severed all your fingers by now? You are such a klutz usually." She'd made the comment before.

"Good knife skills, I guess. Maybe I owe it to Locke for starting me off right." He shrugged.

"You ever wonder if he's still alive?" Shannon questioned about the sole survivor who'd voluntarily stayed behind.

"Oh, he's alive, I'd know it if he wasn't. After you, he was my closest bond. Even given how far away he is, I'd feel it if he was gone." Boone looked contemplatively at the floor. The pair stayed silent for a minute, lost in their musings.

"Can you still throw a knife? I know you were really good at it." She broke the quiet.

"I can still throw _mine, _I don't know about just any knife, though." He practiced the skill sporadically, whenever the urge came to him.

"Try now," she gave him a lopsided grin, and challenged.

He frowned at her, and started rummaging through the knife drawer, hefting different ones in his hand. "This is pretty juvenile, you know." He pointed out. "If you ask me to ride a bike with no hands next, I'm gonna refuse."

Shannon chuckled at his analogy.

Finding one that felt like it had decent balance, he asked her exactly _where_ she had planned for this demonstration, or possible catastrophe, depending on the outcome. He wasn't about to fling it into the drywall of the rented chalet; that was even _if_ he could hit the broadside of a barn with the thing.

She thought for a minute, as did Boone. "Fireplace log," they said in unison, laughing that they'd both come up with the same answer at the same time, Boone getting caught up in her fun.

They headed into the living room. Andrew was playing video games with the headphones on and was oblivious to their presence. Shannon pointed over to the pile of firewood. Boone gave her one last look of amusement, shaking his head and rolling his eyes; then flung his arm out, flicking his wrist and releasing the knife. The blade came to rest, stuck an inch or two in, in exactly the spot for which he'd aimed.

Andrew jumped and turned from the T.V.; he'd caught the motion in his peripheral vision. He looked to his right, at his parents, Shannon appeared slightly chagrined, Boone completely horrified, then to his left, at the knife stuck in the log, not more than a foot from his head. His mouth hung open in astonishment. He turned back to them, and gave them a nasty look, removing the sound buds from his ears. "If you're trying to get rid of me, you could have tried something a little more subtle. I think the police would probably rule out suicide, if they found me with a butcher knife stuck in my back." He put the gaming controls down, and stood, looking more than a little upset. "I'm going to my room, to see if I packed my Kevlar vest." He gave them another nasty look as he pushed between the two of them, leaving the room.

"Jesus, fuck. We probably should have told him to move before I threw the knife." Boone grimaced.

"I was sure you weren't going to miss, so I didn't even think about it." Shannon explained.

"Maybe you were sure, but _I_ wasn't. Damn, that was irresponsible. I can't believe I let you talk me into that. Christ, I still can't say no to you, I'm such a doof." He rubbed at his forehead. "I need to go and apologize to him. Oh, my god, I can't believe I did that."

"You finish dinner, they'll be here soon; I'll go apologize." She turned and went up the stairs.

She found him in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, a pissed off look on his face. "Andy?"

"Don't 'Andy' me." He seemed near tears, his arms were wrapped protectively around himself; he was rocking back and forth.

"It wasn't Boone's fault." Shannon apologized.

"You don't think I already know that? I'm a kid, not an idiot." He shot over his shoulder.

"I just…he was…we were in the kitchen and…" She fumbled for words.

"Stuff it." He was already calming down.

"He wouldn't have killed you, you know." Shannon explained, needlessly.

"I already said I wasn't an idiot." Andrew replied sarcastically.

"I'm sorry. I got him wound up, and," she shrugged "sometimes he doesn't think when I get to him. And then I get so swept up in what I've manipulated him into doing that it just gets out of hand."

"He's flinging knives at me, and you think it's something that 'just got out of hand?' Somehow I've got a different view. And just _why_ are you still tricking him into doing things? He's not your lap dog, Shan, he's my dad, and I _need_ him." He pleaded with her to understand.

"I know, baby," Shannon pulled him into her arms. "I fucked up again, big time. It seemed so harmless, just a little challenge, and it _was_, nothing bad actually happened. I know I should have stopped him before he threw the knife. I saw you sitting there, but I just knew he wouldn't miss, not Boone. He wouldn't have even attempted it, if he thought there was the slightest change of failure, you know he would never dream of putting you in actual danger."

Andrew pulled away from her. "You really _are_ a terrible mother."

"You're a really good kid." She offered in exchange.

"Yeah, I guess, no thanks to you." He responded.

The doorbell sounded.

"The Cooper's are here." She, thankfully, seized on an out.


	7. Chapter 7

They settled themselves in the living room, their drinks of choice in front of them. Boone sipped at his club soda and lime. He figured he'd probably have a glass of wine with their meal, but wanted to keep it together till then, he still had to get dinner on the table. It was a bit ironic, really. Here he was in catering, which was the business of entertaining, but they so rarely entertained themselves, they were a very insular family, keeping to themselves for the most part. The infrequent company they had over mostly consisted of members of their closely knitgroup of Oceanic flight 815 survivors. He glanced over at Shannon, smiling at how luminescent she appeared, even with the bruise on her cheek, totally on her game in front of visitors.

She sensed his scrutiny and grinned over at him, dipping her head a bit in girlish enthusiasm.

They caught each other's eye, and lost the momentum of the conversation for a heartbeat. Their smiles faded as they only existed for each other.

Andrew caught on to what was happening with them and silently groaned to himself, 'Oh no, not now.' He hoped they could pull it back together before they embarrassed all of them. He was seated beside Amy, on the floor in front of the fireplace, only a hands breadth of space between their knees.

Shannon breathed deeply and turned from him with effort. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The car in the driveway," Tim prompted.

She tried desperately to refocus, how ridiculous was this? She'd been married to the man for nine and half years, how could he still leave her breathless and wanting?

"The car?" she asked, stupidly, needing to feel his arms around her.

"In the driveway?" Tim asked.

Boone shook his head, trying to clear it. "It's a rental." He took a stab at guessing that might be the answer to whatever the man had asked.

"Yeah, I figured as much, given the Colorado plates, and the fact that you probably wouldn't have driven all the way here from LA." He laughed. "I was asking how much it was to rent." He shot a look at Anne, who was staring fixedly at a knife stuck in a piece of firewood on the hearth.

"I don't know, I didn't ask." Boone shrugged.

"Must be nice," Tim commented, without any trace of envy.

"What?" Shannon frowned.

"Not having to ask the price of things. I didn't know catering was so lucrative." He explained.

Andrew waited to see what Boone was going to say. He wasn't one to flaunt their wealth.

"It's our first family vacation, ever, so we're going all out. Believe me Boone's usually pretty careful with a dollar." Shannon side stepped the question.

Boone excused himself to go to the kitchen to finish dinner.

"Can I help?" He turned from the stove at Anne's voice.

He reminded her that she was company and that she wasn't expected to do anything. Her response was that she was hoping to get some free pointers in the kitchen.

"Well, I don't usually get help at dinner, but sure." He shrugged and smiled.

He was so used to delegating in a kitchen that they easily fell into a pattern, Boone providing her with guidance on a number of occasions as he watched her work. She smiled appreciatively after each one.

"That's it we're done, let's finish our drinks, and then we can eat." He announced.

Back in the living room he thanked her and turned to Shannon, "See, some people actually help in the kitchen." He noticed that Andrew and Amy were no where to be seen.

"And, some people, regardless of the help, still manage to slop food all over themselves," she retorted, pointing at his sweater.

He pulled the bottom of the garment away from himself so he could look down its' length, and grimaced at the grease mark half way down, starting to rub at it with his thumb.

"Go and change your top, otherwise you're going to drive every one nuts with your fidgeting. Plus you won't be able to carry on an intelligent conversation, not that you ever do, because you'll be worrying about the fact that you haven't put it to soak, and the stain won't come out." Shannon turned to the Cooper's, "He's a total OCD victim."

"I am not," he protested.

"Then tell me, just what _are_ you thinking about right now?" She knew very well that she was right.

He stared at her flatly; wishing the chair she was sitting in would come to life and eat her.

"Fine," he spat, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs.

She turned back to Anne and Tim as Anne started gushing about the tricks she'd learned from Boone.

"_Shannon,"_ Boone bellowed from upstairs.

"Excuse me, I'll just go and…" wait, she thought. Boone bellowed? Those two words didn't go together. Boone never bellowed. He yelled, he whined, he talked dirty into her ear, but he _never_ bellowed. "Find out what's wrong." She finished. "He's probably broken something again, hopefully not a limb."

She headed up the stairs. He was standing in the hall, Andrew in front of him, the boys' arms kind of hanging strangely, probably because Boone had a fistful of the back of his t-shirt and was almost holding him off the ground.

Boone's lips were pinched tight, he had bright red spots on both cheeks; Andrew was looking both frightened and desperate. Amy was standing in the doorway to Andrews' bedroom, trying to be small.

He shook the boy slightly, "They were kissing."

"Oookay," she gave him a 'so what' kind of gesture.

"What the fuck do you mean, okay?" Every time he spoke, he jostled Andrew, the kid moving involuntarily according to Boone's motions, not unlike a puppet.

"Put him down, Boone." She held her hands palm out in a soothing motion.

He suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing. "Right," he forced his hand to release Andrews' shirt.

"Now, you want to tell me what's going on here?" Shannon asked in a soothing voice.

"They were kissing." Boone repeated.

"You already said that, why are you over reacting?" As he opened his mouth to answer she walked over to him and grabbed his hand, telling the two children to go downstairs. She dragged him down the hall to their bedroom, shut the door, and pushed him up against the inside of it, kissing him hard. He put his hands between them to push her away, but when her fingers brushed up the length of him, through the fabric of his jeans, he slid his arms around her instead. She continued till he was good and hard; then pulled away, stepping back. He continued to lean against the door, his eyes closed; his mouth hanging open like that of an uncooked fish on a bed of ice at the grocery store.

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times in confusion. "Why'd you do that?" Shannon wasn't sure if he meant the kiss, or the stopping.

"To prove a point," she replied. "What'd you think was going to happen between them, Boone? What we just did? Cause if so, you're seriously fucked in the head."

"Well…no, of course not…no," he looked a little deflated.

"They're kids, they try things, they're going to experiment, but they're not going to get carried away. It was only an innocent kiss. I'm sure even _you_ must have kissed lots of girls before it ever went any further. He's not even ten yet, for Christ's sake, give him a few years. But he's going to grow up eventually, and you'll give yourself a stroke if you keep reacting like an overprotective mother hen."

"It's just that I want him to be a kid for as long as possible. He's already so much older than his years, half the time he acts older than we do. I just want to be sure he has a proper childhood, and does lots of kid stuff before he tackles the adult shit. I don't want him to grow up too fast. I don't want him to be me." Boone finished quietly.

"God you're such an idiot, why the hell I married you I don't know. I'll chock it up to momentary insanity." She shook her head. "He's not _going_ to be you, Boone. Jesus, you love him more than anything. He's already gotten more love from you in ten years than you've gotten from that bitch in thirty-two."

He smiled a small smile and nodded, "We should be getting back downstairs. We can talk about it later. They're going to start wondering what we're doing up here. In fact, right now,Andrew's probably already assuming that we're having sex."

"You might want to do something about that, then." Shannon gestured at his crotch.

Boone looked down at the bulge in his pants. "You're a right cock tease, aren't you?"

"You know it, brother," Shannon laughed.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that at times like these," he grimaced and winced as he pushed at the front of his jeans.

"Take a chill pill," she waved her hand in dismissal, "and change your sweater, it's what you came up here to do in the first place." She waited for him; then they headed back to their guests.

Down in the living room they apologized for taking so long, Boone looked over at Andrew and Amy, seated, once again on the floor in front of the fireplace. Tim caught the look.

"They told us what happened. It's not a big deal, though I don't think that they should be alone in Andrew's bedroom again." Both kids had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed.

Boone glanced at them again, then past them, noticing that the fire needed attention. He crossed the room and picked up a log, without really noticing which one he'd grabbed. Opening the fireplace doors, he swung the log to throw it on the fire the butt of the protruding knife hit him squarely in the stomach. "Oof, shit, I forgot all about that," he muttered absently, pulling the knife free, and casually flicking it into another piece of wood a few feet away, putting the log in his hand on the flames.

Anne and Tim exchanged a puzzled glance. Shannon explained the presence of the knife, carefully leaving out the part about Andrew. The Coopers' probably already thought they were kind of strange, without adding circus style knife throwing into the mix. She laughed as she pictured Boone clad in colourful silks flinging knives at her as she stood up against a wall dressed in one of those stereotypical female assistant skimpy dresses.

"Let's eat." Boone suggested, picking up on her thought and smiling to himself.

He brought out the food, putting a large casserole dish on the mat above his place setting. The potatoes he'd been slicing earlier were arranged on top of the contents in overlapping lines, like fish scales. He cut a square out of the corner and plated it, handing it to Shannon who held it up, looking at the layers, then passed it to Anne.

"What is it?" Shannon asked not recognizing the dish.

"Scalloped fish pie, I guess you'd call it." He shrugged, explaining that basically it was a layer of spinach, topped by fish in a saffron cream sauce, with potato slices on top, there was a bit more to it than that, but that was the gist of it.

"I've never seen it before." She passed the bowl of baby carrots in an orange glaze, and took her own plate from Boone.

"I just made it up today, if it's any good, I'll add it to our catering menu." He finished serving everyone and set a plate in front of himself.

"It's delicious," Anne told him. "We don't eat fish at all, but this could change that. How'd you make it?"

He went into more detail, trying to come up with quantities and measurements for her. He cooked by instinct alone, not actually writing anything down till he had to instruct his staff.

"Did you learn to cook from your mother?" Tim questioned.

The three of them almost choked, Shannon actually had to get up and thump Boone on the back. He wiped at his streaming eyes, waving his hand at her to answer.

"Sabrina doesn't cook. I don't think I've ever even seen her make a piece of toast. We always had a cook on staff." Shannon explained, before realizing just how pretentious it sounded.

"On staff," Tim repeated, at the same time as Anne said "Sabrina?"

She looked at Boone sharply, "Carlyle? Your last name's Carlyle right?" Boone nodded, uncomfortably, waiting for it.

"Your mother is Sabrina Carlyle?" she asked, incredulously, switching her gaze from Boone to Shannon.

"Not mine, his." She corrected in a flat voice, not wanting to be mistaken for her evil step-monsters' daughter. It was bad enough that she was married to the ice queen's son.

The rest of the dinner conversation, unfortunately for Boone, mostly focused on his mother, Shannon, with great difficulty, trying to keep her tongue in check, Andrew throwing in a comment every now and then. They didn't air their dirty laundry in public, that was just a given, and they all knew it without having ever discussed it.

As a result, Sabrina came off surprisingly well.


	8. Chapter 8

This time it was Boone who pushed the door closed on the departing Cooper family, and leaned back against it.

"Never again," he stated.

"I know," Shannon agreed.

"I don't care if Andrew _does_ like that little girl. That's the last time we're spending an evening with those people." He went on, straightening.

"I already agreed with you." She pointed out.

As the evening had progressed the Cooper's had, once again, been over pressing with their questions. Andrew had reused the same excuse from a few evenings earlier, pleading fatigue, in order to save his parents from what was turning into a 'Spanish Inquisition' type experience, and was already upstairs in his room. Boone figured he owed him big time for coming to their rescue. He'd think of a suitable thank you tomorrow.

"_I_ don't even fucking know, or care, what kind of tea my mother drinks! Why the hell should complete strangers want to know that? For all I'm aware, she could drink ouzo, and dance the tarantella, stark naked in the kitchen every morning." He stopped, realizing what he'd said, and started laughing, Shannon joining him, the two not stopping till they were gasping for air at the absurdity of the visual image.

"Oh, my god, don't _do_ that! I'll have nightmares now, because of what you just said." She managed to sputter, then got herself back under control. "I don't know why they'd want to know that, Boone. Some people are just celebrity junkies." She finally managed to formulate a reply to his earlier question, though she realized that it was mostly rhetorical.

He just shook his head, and rolled his eyes.

"Dinner was really good, though." She tried to salvage at least one element of the evening.

"Thanks."

"Can we have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow?" she asked, a bit hopefully.

"I don't think that'd be a good idea." He made a face. "It'd be kind of gross cold, and besides I already made Thai."

"Oh," Shannon looked a little disappointed, then rebounded. "I could have another piece, now though." She looked thoughtful.

Boone laughed, "This, coming from a woman who was a functioning bulimic for all four years of high school? You want seconds?"

"It was really good," she only marginally managed to keep the whine out of her voice. "And besides, I wasn't married to a world class chef at the time."

"You don't need the empty flattery in order to get another piece, and besides, I already _knew_ you'd want more anyway." He looked smug.

"Oh yeah, Sherlock Holmes, and just _how_ did you know that?" Shannon asked, loftily.

"You're a sucker for anything with saffron in it." He replied knowingly, but affected an off hand manner, and had her name her three favourite dishes from his repertoire.

He looked back at her, smirking, looking all satisfied.

"Fuck off, asshat," she laughed; guessing that they all contained what he had determined was her favourite ingredient. She crossed the distance between them, and kissed him, "I'll be in the kitchen, having a second helping of the Saffron Seafood Napoleon," she assigned a name to it, surprising him with her knowledge of the correct usage of the culinary term, though it usually meant an individually constructed serving.

Maybe he could adapt it so the name would fit better, perhaps if he cut circles out of the casserole after it was cooked? His mind started drifting with ideas as he leaned back against the door once more, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath; letting some of the tension that had built up over the course of the evening drain out of him.

By the time he arrived in the kitchen she had already served herself a portion and was putting it in the microwave to nuke. She opened the cutlery drawer and grabbed a fork, then another one, as a second thought. When the food was hot, they sat kitty corner to each other at the table, and shared off the same plate, eating in companionable silence.

When they were done, Shannon shooed Boone upstairs, offering to clean up the last of the things from the evening herself. He was only too happy to let her.

In their bedroom, he turned the fireplace on low and grabbed a seat cushion from one of the chairs, and a pillow from the bed. He propped the cushion up on an angle against the raised hearth and put the pillow under his head. He was reclined against them, his hands loose in his lap when Shannon entered, his eyes closed.

She knelt beside him and blew softly in his ear. A smile spread slowly across his face, his eyes not opening.

"Are you going to whisper sweet nothings in my ear?" He asked.

Shannon leaned in again, "Sweet nothings," she whispered, playing along.

His eyes opened and he grinned, pulling her onto him. She squealed, and he started tickling her, she gave it right back. They rolled and wrestled across the carpet, each trying to outdo the other, squirming, laughing and trying to find the most sensitive spots. Their years spent together as kids, giving them each an inside edge. She took full advantage of his uncommonly playful mood, enjoying seeing him giving himself over to almost childish abandon.

A knock at the door brought them abruptly back to reality, "Guys?" Andrew called.

"Yeah? Come on in." Shannon managed to get out, for the second time that night breathless with laughter.

He opened the bedroom door a bit tentatively, given the noises that he'd heard from the other side. His parents were lying in the middle of the carpet, his mom on top of his dad. They both looked flushed and totally dishevelled, grinning like idiots, thankfully fully clothed, though he couldn't imagine Shannon would have told him to come in if they weren't. They were strange, but not that strange.

Andrew shook his head at the scene, "I don't even _want_ to know."

Shannon pulled away from Boone and stood; he sat up and spun around so he was facing the door.

Andrew still looked unimpressed at the state he'd found them in. "Anyway, I'm going to bed, so I wanted to say goodnight."

"Okay," Boone smiled at him. The boy crossed the room, and gave him a hug, then went to Shannon; she bent down and kissed his cheek.

Before closing the door, he turned back to them, "Thanks."

"For what?" Boone frowned.

"For having the Cooper's over again. I know they're not your kind of people, but I really like Amy, so I just wanted to say thanks." He pulled the door closed.

"We have a 'kind of people?'" Boone turned to her, questioning.

"Yeah, I think they're called 'plane crash and Craphole Island survivors.' You're such a dolt." Their peculiar experiences, even after all this time, made it difficult to really relate to anyone who hadn't been through it all. She crossed the room, running her fingers through his hair as she passed, and headed to the ensuite.

When she returned, he'd turned off all the lights and put the seat cushion back in the chair, he was still on the floor, however, lying again in front of the fireplace, flat on his back with the bed pillow under his head. He'd left the fire turned on low, the gentle flicker adding a romantic glow to the darkened room. Shannon lowered herself to the floor, and lay down turning on her side to face him, running her hand over his chest through his sweater. He opened his eyes and turned his head smiling, wrinkling his nose a bit, somehow managing to look sexy, sweet and vulnerable all at the same time.

"Sex in front of the fire?" she guessed.

"That was the plan," Boone confirmed.

"I'll have to send the planners a gift basket, then." Shannon leaned in for a kiss, and slid on top of him.

His hands came up and buried themselves in her hair, pulling her mouth tighter against his, then slid down her back and up under the hem of her shirt, stroking her, kneading the muscles briefly, before releasing the catch on her bra. She pulled back, sitting up to shed them, pausing so he could enjoy the sight, her naked skin glowing golden in the firelight. His eyes were dark and wide with unconcealed desire as she tugged at the bottom of his sweater. He raised himself up a bit so she could push it up and off. They regarded each other for a moment before she settled back down against him, finding his lips again.

They continued slowly, pausing often to touch and tease and just _look_, the novelty of the richness of the wavering warm light, adding an extra edge as the minutes passed. Time seemed to stretch, while simultaneously coming to a stand still, catching them in the moment as they shifted positions restlessly, before settling into one.

She relaxed and gave herself over to the sensation, letting him get her close before reaching down to pull at his shoulder, tugging softly at his hair when he failed to respond. He raised his head, his eyes more than a bit glazed; she knew he'd been grinding his hips into the carpet; she pulled at his shoulder again. He wiped his hand across his chin and obediently moved up her body, kissing her; she could taste herself on his tongue.

Locked together they started to move in a comfortable rhythm, slowing and stopping frequently, drawing it out as long as possible, before losing what little control they still had.

Once his ragged breathing steadied somewhat, Boone reached out and grabbed the leg of the nearest chair, pulling it towards them; then tugging the afghan off the back of it. Shannon took it from his hand and draped it over them, raising one leg, carefully not dislodging him, using her foot to push it down.

"I love you," she whispered and sunk back into the carpet crossing her arms across his back as he melted into her; they gave themselves over to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Shannon woke in the morning covered in goose flesh, naked and shivering on the carpeted floor. It wasn't that the room wasn't warm enough, as well as the regular heat they'd even fallen asleep with the fireplace on; it was more that she was completely exposed. She was curled up in a little ball with her hand under the pillow that cushioned her head. Momentarily disoriented, she didn't immediately recall the circumstances that lead to her current situation.

She opened her eyes slowly; Boone was lying beside her on his side, facing away from her, warmly bundled up in the afghan. He'd obviously rolled off her at some point in the night and had taken their sole covering with him. She frowned in irritation and reached out and poked him, calling his name softly. Getting no response, she tried a slightly harder poke and louder voice. Boone continued to breathe regularly, though he _did_ twitch his shoulder.

Shannon sat up and chafed her hands up and down her arms a few times to warm herself before reaching out and quickly snatching the blanket completely off him.

He reacted immediately, jerking awake and spinning on his knees to face her, his right hand groping beside him for the knife that hadn't been there for over nine years. His eyes were frighteningly focused and filled with the promise of violence.

He blinked in confusion at seeing her and flicked his gaze around at their benign surroundings. She held the afghan protectively in front of her, her eyes wide at his unexpected reaction. He slowly sat back on his legs, his breath hitching, shaking from the adrenaline rush.

"Don't do that again," he warned, "_ever,_" an uncharacteristically dangerous edge to his voice.

"Jesus Boone, I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd react line that." Shannon apologized.

"Then use your head for more than a hat rack, and think before you act." He was really pissed.

"_Me_ think before I act? What about you? Jesus, what kind of threat did you think you were going to face in our own bedroom?" She shot back.

"I was sound asleep, for fucks sake. I didn't _think_ at all. You know what a deep sleeper I am. Suddenly someone snatches the covers off me, I react by instinct. I didn't have time to think about where I really was or what was actually going on." His voice was getting louder. "Fuck Shannon." He looked at her accusingly.

"It's not my fault that you're an idiot." She excused herself.

"No it's not your fault; nothing's ever your fault." He rose, looking down at her contemptuously.

She surged to her feet, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind," Boone went over and sat of the edge of the bed, she just glared at him.

"Well, isn't this week turning into a fan-fucking-tastic trip down Craphole Island Memory Lane for me?" He commented bitterly. "First I'm forced to remember being dead, then I have to recount how scared shitless I was when we realized we had ESP and now you've very kindly reminded me what it was like to be attacked by The Others in the middle of the night. What delightful occurrence could possible be next? Hmmm?" He sneered at her sarcastically.

"How about when you killed that guy?" It was out before she could stop herself, immediately regretting it, her eyes widened in horror, knowing how badly she'd crossed the line.

Boone stared at her, the hurt in his eyes giving way to fury, two bright red spots appeared on his cheeks, his jaw muscles worked.

"You fucking bitch. God damn you. That's low, even for you." The words came out from between his clenched teeth. He stood slowly, his eyes boring into hers' unwaveringly.

"Boone…." Her mouth worked, but no words came out, her brow was furrowed, her bottom lip trembling. 'God what have I done?' she wondered. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him like this, if ever and it was because of her, adding yet another entry to the long list of hurts she'd inflicted on him.

"Boone," she started again, reaching her hand out to him

"Don't touch me." He said in the same tone of voice as before.

"You're scaring me," she whispered.

"Like I care, like you care every time you hurt me, God, I really am an idiot. You're just the same, aren't you?" He moved towards the door, but she blocked him.

"Boone, we don't mean any of this. Please listen to me, just stop and listen to me." Shannon pleaded.

He closed his eyes but came to a standstill. Tears were starting to form at the corners of her eyes; she wasn't surprised to see the same in his.

"We always let things get out of hand. Well…_I_ do, and you just get swept up in it." She put her hand up to touch his arm, but stopped just short, certain he'd pull away if she did, and she'd lose him out the door.

"I need to be alone." He said quietly; then bit at his lip.

"No. No you don't." She took a chance and stroked her palm against his upper arm. He pulled his shoulder back, but stood his ground. He opened his eyes and blinked the tears away.

"Boone, we've played too many different roles in each other's lives, sometimes the lines get blurred; you know that. I was being the bitchy sister, and I apologize. I'm sorry I said what I did, I'm sorry I made you remember…well, I'm…I'm sorry." She waited for his reaction.

"You hurt me, why do you always hurt me? Why do I let you?" The last was almost to himself but his voice had lost his edge.

"Because for some unfathomable reason, you love me, after everything I've done to you, you still insist on loving me." Shannon answered. "Boone, I already apologized, what else can I do?" She asked.

"Hug me?" He suggested; the fight in him, gone.

She pulled him into her arms and pressed their bodies together, then stroked her hands up and down his bare back, the entire confrontation having taken place while they were, unconcernedly, entirely naked.

At breakfast Andrew noticed how careful they were with each other, all polite and refocused glances. He'd heard the yelling earlier, and had assumed they'd had another blow out, but this one seemed a little bit more serious than usual.

The same forced politeness continued through the ride to the hill, changing to awkwardness when Boone offered to carry her board for her. They played a bit of tug-o-war with it before she wrestled it away from him; then tried to shove it back into his hands. It fell on the snowy surface of the parking lot and started to slide away, into the path of a passing car. Boone stuck his foot out to try and stop it, but ended up putting his weight on it, only to have the board shoot out from under him. He did the splits for a second before losing his balance and falling hard on his ass. Andrew struggled to contain a fit of giggles, as he went to collect the fleeing snowboard.

Boone managed to scrape together as much of his lost dignity as he could muster as he stood, Shannon fumbling to help him, and brushed himself off.

Brian greeted them at the foot of the hill, noticing that the two were unusually subdued, avoiding looking at each other. He recognized the signs from his own marriage, and figured that they must have had a fight. He'd already had a game plan mapped out for the day, luckily now it seemed even more fitting, and excused him from having to deal with the after effects of a lovers' tiff. He took them up the chair lift once and back down the hill; then announced that he wanted Boone to spend the morning by himself, so he could focus on the other two less accomplished students. Boone looked a bit uncertain, but Brian assured him that he was more than capable of being on the board without his supervision, and assigned a few things that he wanted him to work on. It was more to keep his mind occupied and his efforts focused; Brian had noted that Boone dealt best with specific instructions, rather than broad guidelines.

After two hours, he was back though, waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, his board stuck in a snow bank behind him. They immediately headed over to him, Brian asking if he was okay. Boone, sheepishly, admitted that he was just lonely, and could he, please, rejoin the rest of them? Shannon smiled softly at him, as Brian agreed.

Boone pulled his gloves off and stuffed them in one of his pockets as he closed the few feet between himself and Shannon. Reaching her, he put his hands up, capturing her face, and leaning in for a kiss, one of her hands snaking up to the back of his head. Andrew smiled to himself, knowing that whatever had happened between them that morning was well and truly forgiven and forgotten.

They continued for a few more hours; then broke for lunch. Brian waited eagerly in anticipation of whatever it was that Boone was going to present them with that day, feeling like a bit like a kid waiting to see what he was going to get for his birthday. Man but the guy was spoiling him.

He served them a Thai noodle salad tossed with spicy strips of chicken satay and vegetables, with a thermos of hot fragrant jasmine green tea. He placed individual small containers of finely diced chiles, chopped peanuts and cilantro in the centre of the table, so each person could garnish their meal to their own taste. Boone wasn't surprised when Andrew reached immediately for the chiles, an unusual choice for someone his age, but he'd developed a taste for hot and spicy years before. Boone smiled shyly when Brian complimented him on yet another amazing spread.

After lunch he pulled the container of oatmeal pecan cookies that he'd made the night before, out of his back pack and peeled back the lid, offering them around. Brian seemed more than a little disappointed as the last of them went to an adjoining table, Boone didn't bother to tell him that he'd made a double batch, the rest slated for delivery at dinner that night.

Back outside Brian again suggested that Boone head off on his own, telling him that he was more than ready to try the half pipe. Boone looked a little reluctant until the guy suggested he take Andrew with him. The boys' eyes lit up as he begged his dad to let him come with him, the magic words 'half pipe' enticing him.

"You sure this has anything to do with snowboarding and that you don't just want my wife all to yourself?" Boone joked.

"How do you know that I haven't set this all up, just so _I_ can have Brian all to _myself_?" Shannon spoke up before the guy could answer.

Boone shot her a look, "True," then turned back to their instructor, "Good luck with that, I'll send her belongings over in the morning. Oh, and she likes the left side of the bed." He ducked as she threw a snowball at him.

Boone and Andrew spent a fantastic afternoon together, competing against one another, trying increasingly advanced tricks in a private game of one-upmanship, and then boasting about them on the chair lift back up to the top.

As the afternoon drew to a close, Boone started to get a little quiet.

"What's wrong Boone?" Andrew sensed the shift in his mood.

"We haven't done anything, just the two of us, since Shan got back," he shrugged. "I guess I kind of missed it, without even realizing it. I really like spending time with you. Sorry I'm being such a sap. I hope I'm not embarrassing you," he added, remembering what it was like to be Andrew's age, though by that time he didn't have a father any more to be embarrassed by, and Adam hadn't entered the picture yet.

"I like you too. You're definitely the coolest dad. And give me till I reach my teens to be embarrassed to be seen with you." He knew how much his older friends hated going out in public with their parents.

"Glad to know I've got a few years yet, then." He hugged the boys' shoulder. "Let's go see if Shan's eaten Brian alive yet."

The man seemed to have survived the afternoon alone with Shannon without too much trauma; she must have been on her best behaviour Boone guessed. They got directions to Brian's home, his phone number, and then parted company.

Boone stopped at a gift store on the way back to the chalet, he'd already bought a couple of bottles of wine, one red, one white, just to cover all the bases, he hated not pleasing everyone. Though, should he take sweet or dry? He suddenly started obsessing, second guessing himself in a bit of a panic.

"Jesus, could you freaking be any more OCD." Shannon picked up on his sudden fixation. "Fuck Boone, it's just dinner, if the wine isn't to their taste they can re-gift it. Any just why are we picking up a gift if we're already taking wine?"

"I want something to put the wine in." He explained.

"How about a grocery bag?" She suggested.

"I'll remember that the next time I give _you_ a gift. Your birthday's coming up, hope I have some Safeway bags under the sink." He mused.

Andrew suddenly found something interesting on a shelf, trying to look like he wasn't listening as they continued their petty bickering.

Boone found a basket to his liking and paid for it. Back out in the SUV he slid behind the wheel.

"What do you think they're going to serve for dinner?" Shannon wondered out loud, looking at her brother, a sly smile on her face.

"I don't know," he shrugged and started the car.

"Maybe a nice roast beef," she suggested. "Or steak! Yeah, that's company food."

"You really think they'll give us steak?" he asked tentatively, making a face.

"Sure! A nice juicy steak! Rare!" She nodded smiling, totally getting into baiting him. "No…no…wait. They'll cook it the way they like, probably _blue_ rare, all bloody and almost raw. Brian looks like a rare meat kind of guy, and he _did_ mention something about steak when we were alone this afternoon."

Andrew reflected again how T.V. wasn't really necessary, given the show his parents regularly put on.

"Blue rare?" Boone looked a bit nauseous.

"Well, if it's a good piece of _meat_," she stressed the word, "you certainly don't want to overcook it."

"I guess," he was frowning so hard, Andrew figured the wrinkles were going to be permanent.

"You'll eat it right? I mean, how can you not? It wouldn't be good manners." Shannon pushed another one of his buttons, Boone would never dream of appearing rude.

"I'll eat it," and then I'll throw up afterwards, he thought to himself.

She continued describing their possible dinner choices, having her fun, getting so much mileage out of it that she didn't bother informing him that she'd already told Brian that he didn't eat red meat.


	10. Chapter 10

Boone found the house without any trouble, and pulled into the driveway of the unremarkable ranch style bungalow.

Brian opened the front door even before they reached it, looking a little surprised that they were standing there. Boone glanced quickly at the display on his cell phone to assure himself that they were on time, always punctual, he hated being early just as much as he hated being late, and given the look on the guys' face he wasn't sure that he hadn't screwed up, after all it _was_ him, and it certainly wasn't unheard of for him to get something wrong.

"Oh, I was just going out to my car to get something, I didn't realize it was seven already," Brian commented. Boone relaxed a little when his remembrance of the correct time of the invitation was confirmed.

He beckoned them in to the foyer of his home, taking the gift basket that Andrew held out. He picked up the container of cookies and shook it, looking expectantly at Boone when he heard the rattle.

"It's cookies," Boone laughed.

A huge shaggy dog came out of nowhere and shoved its' nose into Andrew's crotch, almost knocking him over. Shannon reached out a hand to steady him. The dog then lifted its head to lick his face. "That's Lucky," Brian supplied the dog's name.

Andrew giggled and tried to push the dog away, Brian reached down and reefed on the animals' collar, but Andrew just followed along keeping in contact with the large beast, beaming widely. Boone figured that he'd get the whole 'Can _we_ have a dog?' question before the night ended, maybe even a 'Dad' or two thrown in to up the ante.

Brian opened the coat closet door and handed them hangers, Bone already felt the vibe of a real lived in family home. The hall closet was filled to over flowing with varsity jackets, and ski clothes, the floor littered with a jumbled mass of shoes and boots. They stuffed their coats in as best they could, then followed Brian into the living room.

It was a comfortable place, Boone felt immediately at ease, and started to smile without even realizing it. There were piles of magazines everywhere, and a well worn sofa and some easy chairs. The place was obviously clean, but just as obviously well used. The coffee table had rings, most probably he guessed, from coffee mugs and beer bottles and scars from shoes, not taken off at the front door, that had been rested on its' top. It was like something out of a family based sitcom, an environment he'd wasn't used to, the Ethan Allen showroom that had been his childhood home, so diametrically opposite to the casual welcoming ambience of the Taylor house. Their own house was welcoming, he liked to think, but there just wasn't the casual clutter that this place had.

There were two burly looking boys, who appeared a few years older than Andrew, and were clearly Brian's sons, playing a video game on the T.V.

"Boys, company's here," Brian announced, getting their attention. "Downstairs." He instructed. "And this is Andrew; take him with you, _and_ Lucky."

Boone glanced down at his son, 'You okay with that?'

He looked up smiling, still patting the dog, and nodded happily.

"Paul and Ryan," the guy pointed at each one in turn. "Don't do _anything_ Ryan tells you to." He admonished Andrew. "Be good." He warned Ryan, and sent the mess of them all downstairs. "He's a good boy, just at that age where he taunts younger kids into doing stupid things. Last week he had Paul on a bicycle on the roof."

Boone looked a little alarmed.

Shannon patted his arm, "Andrew's not an idiot, Boone." She suddenly realized what she'd said and how it reflected on Brian's younger son. "Not that Paul is I'm sure!"

"Yeah, he is." Brian just shook his head.

He asked them what they wanted to drink and gestured to the couch for them to sit. "I'll just get Tanya out of the kitchen." He headed off with the gift basket.

They settled themselves and exchanged a happy smile, feeling oddly at home in the strange house, kissing quickly as they found themselves alone, briefly.

A pleasant looking woman came through the kitchen door, introducing herself. Brian followed quickly after with their beverages. They sat comfortably and chatted. A large grey and white cat walked, nonchalantly, across the coffee table and up Boone's knee, settling in his lap. Tanya identified him as Rover; it was an in-joke she explained at the traditionally canine name.

Shannon waited to see how long it would take Boone to shoo it off, freaking over getting cat hairs on his dark wash denim jeans. He rubbed the animals' ears and settled it more comfortably in the triangle formed by his crossed legs, patting it absently, and smiling. She wondered, 'Who are you and what have you done with Boone Carlyle?' as she eyed him suspiciously.

The conversation continued until Andrew appeared, up from the basement, holding his right hand out in front of him, index finger extended. "Boone?" He turned at the query. "I've got a sliver in my finger." The boy winced.

"Let me see," Andrew walked between Shannon and the coffee table so his father could take a look at the offending piece of wood lodged in his flesh.

"What were you doing?" Tanya asked gently.

"Playing swords," Boone looked up startled, "Wooden swords, Boone. Jeeze," Andrew explained, rolling his eyes. Yeah, like they'd be playing with real swords.

Boone dropped the child's hand and went to stand, picking the cat up and going to hand it to Shannon. She raised her eyebrow at him and made no attempt to take the feline. "Right," I'm an idiot, he thought to himself, putting the animal, instead, on the floor.

At his inquiry, Tanya rose and ushered the two of them down the hall to the bathroom, and provided the necessary first aid supplies for them. Minor surgery successful, Andrew headed back downstairs and Boone returned to the living room.

Soon after, Tanya excused herself to finish dinner. Boone, of course, offered to help, but she declined saying that she had everything well in hand. After a few minutes, the meal ready, she called them all into the kitchen to eat.

As they took their seats, she placed a roast beef on the table, along with some mashed potatoes and broccoli. Boone looked at the slab of meat and closed his eyes briefly, 'I can do this' he thought. She went back over to the counter and returned with a salad and a roast chicken. He relaxed the shoulders he hadn't even realized he'd tensed.

"Shannon told Brian that you don't eat red meat," Tanya smiled at him.

"Oh, she did, did she?" He gritted his teeth and gave Shannon a nasty look. "Payback's a bitch, and you're _going_ to pay." He intended on getting back at her for all her talk of blue rare steak earlier.

"Whatever _could_ you be talking about?" she feigned innocence.

"Oh, I don't know…the price of crude oil, or how about the merits of carbon over steel golf club shafts?" He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Brian's been telling me all about how you're spoiling him at lunch. I'm afraid I'm not a fancy cook, but I think this will fill you up." Tanya apologized at the plain fare.

They all helped themselves, family style, Andrew eagerly taking a slice of roast beef. After four bites, however he found himself chewing less than enthusiastically and leaned forward, looking past Boone to the chicken in front of Shannon.

"Shan?" She leaned forward so she could see him. "May I have some chicken, please?"

Boone hid a smile, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

After dinner, the kids left to play video games in the living room while the adults continued to idle over coffee and tea.

"I couldn't help but notice your engagement ring, it's gorgeous." Tanya commented.

"Thanks," Shannon held it up and twisted it on her finger, admiring it herself. "Boone gave it to me for Christmas this year."

"You aren't married?" Brian asked, frowning, sure that the silver bands on their fingers were wedding rings.

"Nine and a half _blissful_ years," Boone remarked sarcastically, getting a smack to the back of the head for his effort.

The guy deserves a medal, Brian reflected. He didn't have anything against Shannon personally, in fact he kind of liked her spunk, but that didn't mean that he could imagine living with her.

"You didn't get an engagement ring when he proposed?" Tanya questioned.

"We were never _really_ engaged and I don't recall that he ever proposed." Shannon answered.

"But, surely when you were dating, he must have asked you to marry him." Tanya was understandably confused.

"We never went on a date," She looked at Boone for confirmation, he just shrugged.

"You don't look like likely candidates for an arranged marriage," Brian said, just as mystified as his wife.

"If anyone arranged this marriage, it was the devil, and he either has it in for me, or has a twisted sense of humour," Boone commented, scooting down a chair, safely out of Shannon's swatting range. Sure enough she raised her arm to hit him again, glowering at him instead, when she realized he was out of reach.

"Oooohkay, then…" Brian left the question open, obviously expecting more of an explanation.

"We've been living together since I was eight and Boone was ten." Shannon said, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Christ, Shannon," Boone cried, incredulously, "explain why, before they think we're perverts, or that our parents were."

"That's when my dad married Bonehead's mother," she sighed, disappointed that he was ruining her fun. "You're such a buzz killer Boone."

Good lord, over twenty years, the guy didn't deserve just a medal, he warranted an entire display case, Brian's eyes widened.

"That must make things interesting," was Tanya's only comment.

Andrew appeared at the door redirecting their attention. "Boone, may I have another cookie?"

"Sure thing, bud," he answered.

He came forward as Tanya held out the plate, telling him to take two more for Paul and Ryan. "They've got that new video game that you and I wanted to play," Andrew started tentatively. "Could you, maybe, come and play a level with me?" He asked his dad.

"We're company here, Andrew," he started before Tanya cut in, urging him to go with the boy. They were finished their coffee and tea and she always encouraged Brian to spend time with their sons, so it was true to her nature to want the same for Boone.

They all stood, Boone went into the living room with Andrew; Brian headed out to the car to finish the errand he'd been on when they first got there, and Tanya and Shannon cleared the table.

"He's a good boy," she commented to Shannon.

She nodded, "Boone did a great job with him."

"Boone?" she questioned.

"I was away travelling, so he raised him himself," she looked away, uncomfortably.

"Ahhh," Tanya said, nodding as if coming to some kind of understanding.

Shannon shrugged and shook her head, her unasked question unmistakable.

"That's why he came to your husband when he had the splinter and when he wanted another cookie, if Boone raised him, then it makes sense. Usually kids come to their moms for that kind of thing." She explained.

They do? Shannon wondered. "I'm not really big on the whole 'maternal instinct' thing." Even when he'd fallen off his bike, it had been Sawyer who'd cleaned the scrapes on his knees and hands, was she really that clueless? She kept mulling it over as they loaded the dishwasher.

Tanya, unexpectedly, changed the subject to their snowboarding lessons, not following through on a possible line of questioning as to why Shannon had been travelling instead of living with her family.

They headed out shortly after, thanking the Taylor's, completely sincerely, for a wonderful evening.

Boone backed the car out onto the street and headed home. His cell phone rang about half way there, he glanced at the incoming number, noticing it was local, and thinking it was probably Amy he passed the device back over his shoulder to Andrew.

The boy answered it and smiled at hearing her voice, Boone's guess being correct. He talked quietly to her for a few minutes before raising his head, "Shan?"

"Hmm?" she glanced quickly back at him, acknowledging her name.

"Your dad's name was Adam, right?" He asked.

"Yeah," she answered slowly.

"Well…uhm…he wants to talk to you."


	11. Chapter 11

Boone pulled into the driveway of the Coopers' hotel and found a spot for the SUV. Things had been pretty quiet in the vehicle since Andrew made his announcement. He killed the engine and they all got out, Shannon looked a little wild about the eyes, he noticed.

"Honey, you sure you want to do this?" He asked her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She pushed him away irritably. "I don't see that I have much choice. And stop being so clingy, I'm not a porcelain doll."

"Right, sorry," He'd only been trying to be supportive, but he should have expected her independent nature to assert itself, given the stressful situation. She always hid behind her most familiar facades.

They rode silently up in the elevator, Boone and Andrew exchanging glances with raised eyebrows.

When they knocked on the door, Tim answered it immediately. They apologized for the intrusion, given the late hour.

"When Amy's like this, time's not a factor, don't worry about it." He dismissed their concern. "And we're used to it, believe me."

They walked hesitantly into the suite. Amy and Anne were watching TV, Amy smiled when she saw them, though it was mostly at Andrew. Aren't they way too young for this, Boone wondered?

They made their apologies again, then Shannon turned to Amy. "So my father wants to talk to me?"

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"After twelve years? That seems a little weird." She observed, "And why now? If he wanted to talk to me why didn't he just get Jack to tell me?"

Amy appeared to listen for a minute, "Jack won't see him."

"What? There's like an appointment thing, and Jack won't pencil him in?" Shannon asked sarcastically.

"No, Jack won't see him." She repeated. "He won't _let_ himself see him. Jack was there when he died, and he feels responsible, so he won't see him."

"Wait," Boone interjected, "Jack was there when he died? You want to back that up just a second?"

She appeared to listen again, "They brought in two people, and Jack chose to save the lady, he figured Adam was too far gone. Your dad doesn't blame him for that though, 'cause he was probably right."

"Jack? Our Jack? He was there?" Shannon couldn't wrap her head around the coincidence.

"He was working emergency that day." Amy said.

They both had to concede that it _was_ possible, though that they'd be two of the few survivors of a plane crash with the guy two years after the incident was stretching things a bit. But so was polar bears on a South Pacific island and suddenly developing ESP.

"So he's got something he wants to say to me?" Shannon asked sceptically.

She nodded, and glanced at Andrew, smiling at him again. Boone just rolled his eyes.

"He says he's sorry that Sabrina never gave you the money, he meant for you to have it, but he never thought that she wouldn't give it to you." They both got really still as they looked at her, their blood running cold, there's no way Amy could know that.

"Can I see him? Andrew," Shannon turned to the boy, "can _you_ see him." She inexplicably felt like it would be more real if she got confirmation from her son, not that she didn't believe the girl, especially after what she'd just said.

"I've got ESP, I'm not a medium," he frowned at her. Jeeze how many special talents did she expect him to have?

"But _Amy_ can see him, and you can read Amy, I want to know if you can see him." She demanded; her focus intent.

He appeared to relax and concentrate, frowning a bit at the girl. "Okay, I got it."

"So tell me what he looks like." His mother requested.

He described his maternal grandfather as best he could. Boone reached out and steadied her as she seemed to sway at the confirmation of her remembered appearance of him.

"Fuck Boone, fuck." She turned and slid her arms around him.

"That's all he wanted to say," Amy shrugged. "He was just really sorry. He's been waiting all this time to tell you that. Oh, and he's happy for you and Boone. He always thought you should be together."

"He's happy for us?" She raised her head and turned to look at the girl, glancing from her to Andrew.

The boy smiled and nodded, as did Amy.

Shannon was close to tears, but held them back, "That's good. I mean, thanks daddy."

"He's going now." Amy informed her.

"Okay." She sniffed.

"But, Boone, he says to take care of his little girl." She repeated the message.

"I will." He answered, simply. "I always have." He tipped his head to look at Shannon, cupping the back of her head and pulling her against him.

They stood for a few seconds, frozen to the spots they'd ended up in, after the emotionally charged exchange. They all waited for Shannon to break the spell.

She took a deep breath and pulled away from Boone, smiling up at him warmly, then kissing him, not caring that they were surrounded by people.

"Daddy approves of you, Boone. Maybe I'll keep you after all." Her hand slid up to the side of his face.

"Hope so." He grinned.

"We're really sorry about all this," Shannon apologized again, though still caught up in the experience.

"No problem." Anne smiled. "We're leaving tomorrow, though, so it's kind of nice to be able to say goodbye to you."

They made their farewells, then headed out They were all still quiet on the ride home.

Up in their bedroom after tucking Andrew in for the night, Boone looked across the room at her. Shannon was seated in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, staring distractedly into the flames, her feet pulled up onto the seat cushion. She looked particularly young and vulnerable, he thought.

"Shan?" He was hesitant about breaking her quiet reverie.

She blinked a few times, slowly, then sighed and looked up at him. She smiled, a bit reluctantly, "Yeah?"

Boone suddenly didn't know what it was that he had been planning to say. He crossed the room and knelt in front of her chair, leaning forward to rest his head in her lap and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, and focused again on the fire.

"I'm sorry, Shan, I'm so, very, very sorry." Boone mumbled.

She frowned and shook her head, "What? Why?"

"If I wasn't so selfish you'd be a dancer right now. Instead of stuck with me. How you don't hate me, I don't know." He shook his head.

"Boone, what the fuck are you talking about?" She looked down at him.

"I shouldn't have taken that job. I knew my mother only offered it because it would have kept you from the Martha Graham opportunity. It wasn't even about me, it was all about her, god I'm such a loser." He sighed.

"You were completely right, it was a really great job, and you were good at it. Christ Boone, if you hadn't taken it, then you would _really_ have been a loser. We're not going back there. It's past history, and I'm not going to play 'What if' with you. Just shut the fuck up about it." He wasn't going to play the martyr on her account.

"You should have taken my money when I offered it, Shan." He raised his face and kept pressing the issue. "Why did you think you needed to steal from me? I loved you, you knew I loved you, I would have given you anything."

"I thought it was my money, that I was due it, but it wasn't, it wasn't the money that she didn't give me. It was _your_ money; you worked hard and long for it. It wasn't mine to have. I'm the one who's sorry here, Boone." She pulled him up, "Don't be sorry, please?"

He breathed a deep sigh, "We've got so much baggage. We'd fill a 747."

"With lots of blue tarps though, right? And a suitcase full of knives?" she teased.

He laughed. "And a copy of A Wrinkle In Time."

"I love you, so much." Shannon admitted, laughing back at him.

"Well now that _daddy_ approves…" he joked.

She got quiet. "Yeah."

"Let's have a bath together." Boone changed the subject, cursing himself for reminding her of what had transpired earlier.

"You just had a bath the other night." She pointed out. Obviously they showered every day, but a bath was a once in a blue moon event.

"But not with you." He reminded her. "And we don't have a whirlpool at home, so let's take advantage."

She shrugged. "But no sex, I'm really not in the mood."

"No sex." He agreed.

He went into the ensuite and turned the taps on, then rummaged in her stuff to try and find some kind of bath product, successfully withdrawing a bottle of bath oil. Returning to the unit, he checked the back of the bottle and poured some in, then a little more, when it didn't seem like quite enough.

"I'm going to get us some wine, keep an eye on the tub, okay?" Boone asked her as he headed out the bedroom door.

She agreed, as he went to the kitchen to get the wine, an ice bucket, some glasses and an opener.

She was still sitting staring into the fire when he returned, he was pretty sure that she hadn't checked on the tub, even once. Thankfully it wasn't overflowing.

"Hon, tubs ready." He got her attention.

They stripped naked, Boone pinned her hair up for her, then poured them each a glass of the wine, putting the two filled glasses on the edge of the tub.

They climbed in, carefully immersing themselves in the hot water. Boone leaned against the edge and spread his legs, pulling her back against his chest. She slid down him almost immediately.

"Fuck, Boone, how much oil did you put in? Didn't you read the directions?" Shannon asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

He just looked at her, eyebrow quirked. "Of course, you read the directions, you're Boone Carlyle." She muttered, leaning back against him again, but bracing her feet on the opposite side of the tub.

"It's a good thing you're not in the mood for sex, because I think I'd probably slide right off you." He raised his hand out of the water and rubbed his fingers together, testing the lubrication on them.

"I can just imagine having to take you to the hospital as a result of a fall during sex. That'd be fun to try and explain. 'Well you see, doctor, he was on the upstroke and the next thing I knew he'd slid off onto the floor and was sprawled out on the carpet, wailing about having broken…well, you get the idea.'" She played out the imaginary scene.

"Cute, Shan," he winced at the thought. "What do you think they'd use as a splint?" He mused in fun.

They continued to soak, sipping at their wine occasionally, sliding their hands over each other, becoming increasingly drowsy. When Shannon's head rolled to the side on his chest, her eyes closed, Boone figured it was time to get out, before they both fell asleep. He nudged her awake, and she stepped over the rim carefully, he stood to follow her and braced his hand on the edge of the tub to help himself out. His arm shot out from under him, as the effect of the oil came into play. He fell back into the water, submerging himself completely, water sloshed out and on to the floor. He came up sputtering after a second.

Shannon was standing there, laughing at him. "You're _such_ a doofus."

"Thanks for the concern," he wiped his hands over his face trying to get the water and oil mixture off. "Ugh, it's all in my hair, this is gross." He was more careful with his second attempt to exit the tub. "Shit, there's water all over the floor." He looked at her, she was still laughing. "You going to give me a hand here, or are you just going to keep laughing at me?"

"I'm sticking with the laughing," she managed to choke out.

Boone finally saw the humour in the situation, and smirked at little at himself, as he went to grab some towels to clean up the mess.


	12. Chapter 12

Boone was in the kitchen by himself, the next morning when Andrew came down. He immediately went over to collect his morning mug of tea. As his dad handed it to him, he caught a whiff of something and leaned in to sniff Boone's arm.

"Why do you smell like a girl?" He asked, frowning.

Boone's eyes widened in surprise, "What? No, no I don't." He said in alarm and raised his arm to his nose.

"Yeah, dude, you totally do." Andrew contradicted him, affecting Hurley's voice.

"Smell my hair," Boone demanded, leaning down.

Andrew obligingly stuck his nose in the mess of brown strands that approximated a hairstyle, at least in Boone's opinion.

"Ew," he pulled quickly away, "It's even worse."

"Fuck, I washed it twice last night, and once this morning," he mused, almost to himself.

"So, you smell like a girl, _why_ exactly," Andrew repeated his question, thinking that rephrasing it slightly might actually get him an answer.

"We had a bath together, your mom and me," he explained and sighed, "I guess I put in too much of Shan's bath oil."

"Okay, dude, TMI," Andrew made a face and held up one of his hands, the one not holding the mug, palm outwards to stop Boone from adding to the disturbing mental image his words had formed in Andrew's head.

"You asked," Boone pointed out, shrugging.

Shannon came down, dressed as usual in long underwear, a pink set this morning, and crossed to give Boone a kiss and get her coffee.

"He smells like a girl." Andrew informed her, as he sat at the kitchen table.

She quirked an eyebrow and leaned in and sniffed at Boone, "You _do_ smell a bit like a Mary Sue."

"It's _your_ bath oil." He pointed out. "I guess that makes you a Mary Sue."

As Andrew started to giggle at the completely off base description, Shannon corrected him. "Oh no, brother dear, I'm anything _but_ a Mary Sue, you on the other hand..."

They met up with Brian again at the resort and continued their lessons through the morning, Boone choosing to wait until lunch to tell the man of the decision the three of them had come to at breakfast. They'd realized that they just wanted some family time during their last two days, so wouldn't be in need of his services any more that week. When the guy looked kind of let down, Boone thought incorrectly, that it was because he assumed Boone was going to stiff him for two days of lesson fees. He quickly assured him that a contract was a contract, in his books, and he'd definitely not renege on their deal. But Brian corrected him saying he was actually just disappointed at not spending the next few days with them, he'd really come to like them during the time they'd spent together.

"And of course, there's the free lunch," he added with a grin.

They finished out the day, and bid him a bit of a bittersweet farewell at the end. He assured them that, seeing he was still contracted to them for the next two days, all they had to do was call him, and he'd be there in a flash. He listed some things for them to practice in his absence to improve their new skill, and shook hands with Boone and Andrew, startling Shannon when he pulled her in for a hug, kissing her cheek. She'd gotten the distinct impression that he was more than a little wary of her.

The next two days passed enjoyably, the weather bright and sunny, serving as the perfect backdrop for the end of their vacation. They spent the days on the slopes, and the nights cocooning in the warmth, not only of the rustic chalet, but in the secure family unit they'd become.

On the last day, they clambered again into the rented SUV and Boone headed the vehicle back to their temporary home.

Shannon and Andrew settled in the living room, Boone building them a fire before leaving, they presumed, to start dinner.

He was back in about fifteen minutes, surprising them both by coming into the living room with a glossy flyer in his hands and asking "You guys want to order pizza?"

They looked at him, then at each other then back at him again, "What?" they both asked, certain that some mutant had replaced him in an 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' kind of bizarre incident.

He looked up from the flyer, "Pizza? You know, flat, bread-like crust with toppings? They have whole-wheat crust and vegetarian. I'd go pick it up if you wanted some." He offered, as if trying to convince them.

"_You_ want to order pizza?" Andrew asked him, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.

It was their last night and Boone just wanted to relax and not cook, besides pizza could be good healthy food, he sometimes made it for them himself. Once they realized that he was serious they came to an agreement about toppings and he went to make the call. Andrew had tried to get chicken wings as well, but Boone just told him not to try and press his luck. When Shannon had asked if they couldn't deliver, he'd surprised her further by saying that he wanted a beer with his, and seeing as they didn't have any, he needed to swing by the market as well.

When he got back to the living room, Andrew persuaded him to sit beside him on the floor so they could play a video game together, it really didn't take much; it was what Boone had planned anyway. Shannon told him that she'd go and get the pizza and beer, so he could spend time with Andrew, he agreed with an appreciative smile. When she got back, he started to get up to serve the pizza, but in an annoyed voice, with a roll of her eyes, she made it clear that she was more than capable of opening the box and putting the slices on plates without his supervision.

She settled on the couch to watch the game they were playing, as they consumed the food, Boone made them laugh as he managed to almost knock his beer over only twice as he blindly groped for the mug, not taking his eyes off the screen.

He amused them even further, when he suddenly started talking over the game as if he was dubbing a Japanese foreign language film, dropping his voice and talking in clipped short sentences, with overblown polysyllabic words. Andrew had a hard time focusing on successfully manoeuvring his character, as he giggled at the absurdity of the dialogue Boone was attributing to the action on screen. On the couch, Shannon was wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, and thinking; wasn't it just typical, finally the guy was starting to relax, and it was their last day.

Andrew finally slipped up and his character was killed, Boone marking the event with, "Curse my sudden, but inevitable demise," then breaking into laughter himself.

They wrapped up the evening, all of them a little quiet and melancholy, they'd all had a good time, and, like most people on vacation they just didn't want it to end.

Sometime during the night a thunder storm started, lying in bed, deeply asleep, Boone frowned as each rolling boom sounded, the noise somehow triggering a part of his subconscious where his old, and long outgrown, childhood fear of thunder resided. He stirred restlessly, whimpering quietly, eventually waking Shannon. She started a bit as the lightening flashed, brightening the room to almost mid-day proportions, he moaned again.

"Boone?" she pulled away from the circle of his arm, and shook him lightly. Mindful of the scene of a few nights before, not wanting a repeat of his startled sudden awakening, she brushed her mind against his, tugging at him gently, 'Boone?'

His eye lids fluttered and opened slowly, his body jerking as the windows rattled at a new wave of sound from the angry weather.

"Shit," he commented, flinching, then furrowed his brow, wondering why Shannon was awake and looking all concerned at him.

"You were having a nightmare, or maybe it was the storm I guess." She answered his unspoken question.

He breathed a laugh in acknowledgement then pulled her back against him. They held each other for a while as the wrath of Mother Nature continued to rage outside.

Knowing he wasn't going back to sleep any time soon, Boone found his thoughts drifting, something occurring to him. 'Can I ask you a question?'

'Think you just did,' he could feel her smile against his chest.

He sighed, and shook his head slightly, 'Okay then, another one?'

'You got that covered too.' Shannon continued to tease.

'Can you stop being a smart ass for a second?'

'That's your third.'

Boone gave up.

After a minute or so, Shannon responded, 'That's not fair! Now I _have_ to know what you were going to ask. You can't just up and quit!' She lifted her head and gave him a glare.

'Okay. It's just, do you think we should do this more often?' He asked.

'What; have a conversation in bed at three in the morning?' Shannon frowned at him in mock puzzlement.

'_Were_ you here when I asked you to stop being a smart ass?' Boone asked in frustration. 'No, I mean go on vacation,' he clarified, rolling his eyes.

'Are you insane?' She questioned, as comfortable with the question as someone who lived with a blind person might ask them if they could see what they were saying.

'Only marginally,' he didn't feel like expending the energy becoming affronted.

She pushed herself up and sat cross legged on the bed beside him. "I'm the one who likes to travel, remember? And anything that gets _you_ to slow down for a bit is a good thing. And with the crazy schedule that the new business is forcing us into, we need as much family time as possible. So yes, yes and yes, dumb ass." She finished her little mini-rant by looking at him like he was an idiot.

"Jeeze, sorry to actually try to talk to you about something, I was only asking because the notion of vacation isn't something I usually consider. As you just pointed out, I'm a bit of a workaholic." He finished sarcastically.

"That's the understatement of the year," she commented lying down against him again.

They discussed the subject of taking regular family vacations for a while, deciding that they should get away at least twice a year, more if they could fit it in.

They lay quiet again, the ferocity of the storm making it virtually impossible to go back to sleep. Boone wondered if he should go check on Andrew, but figured if the kid was bothered, or even awakened by the storm, he would have been at their door by now.

"We're not going back to sleep, are we?" Shannon mumbled into his chest.

'Doubt it,' he replied, silently.

'Then let's not pass the time pointlessly,' She raised her head, pulling herself up to kiss him, her hand sliding down from it's usual resting place on his shoulder.

He kissed her back, his eye lids losing their battle to stay open as she caressed him.

They made love slowly, both of them confident that it was a fitting way to end their week.


End file.
